


Paradise City

by annoying_kuriboh



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Eye Trauma, F/M, Foreplay, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Photography, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, This will be a wild ride, Vaginal Sex, grab some chocolate and red bull, its 2k19, the year we aint ashamed of shipping our fave characters with ourselves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 75,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoying_kuriboh/pseuds/annoying_kuriboh
Summary: Flashbacks, blood, alcohol. Two psychopaths denying their true nature to the outside world decide on working together, until the clichee detective with an addiction to alcohol and menthol-cigarettes catches on. Somehow in between fits sex, romance and the fear of losing grip on reality.





	1. The Devil In I

Eye opens to complete darkness and for a moment Stefano panics. Afraid he was stuck in a nightmare, in blindness, helplessness - his left hand reaches to the bandaged side of his face, probes carefully, pokes the sore skin around the empty eye-socket. No pain he feels, but shame and regret, the nagging doubts concerning his appearance. Had he not thought of himself as appealing enough, getting out of bed might have been impossible.

Thoughts of his own appearance and how others perceive him only distracted him from the cruelty that Stefano was forced to face within his nightmares. The pain there was real, without a way of escape for the man, what other choice did he have but to endure and wait until the morning light? Stefano lost quite a few pounds due to the lack of sleep after his first surgery, not to mention his non-existent appetite. If hands wander down his chest they feel protruding ribs and muscles twitching between them.  
Stefano breathes in deeply, out slowly. Stretches fingers and toes before he gathers any motivation to get out of bed. 

In his bedroom there lingered the smell of sweat and alcohol, last from the disinfectant he used yesterday for the wound. Thinking back to it, the skin begins to burn again in aching memory of what was lost. Before Stefano can touch the bandages once more and could get lost in the emotion, he forces his legs out of the bed and supports his upper body by clinging to the edges. Muscles felt sore and pretty much useless after just another night of holding tension in them.  
Stefano didn't reach for the lamp placed on his nightstand, admittedly because deep down, he was afraid of any reflecting surface in the room. Might it be the TV, the mirror hung up on the wall or those little ones built into the sideboard. Until this day he hadn't found the motivation to simply put some clothes over them, to shield himself from his own nasty looks after waking up from nightmares. The horror on his face, lips dry and chapped, the skin that was visible paler than usual and wet from sweat. And this damned bandages that ruined his beautiful face.  
Going outside was a hassle. But what choice did he have today? Stefano tells himself, day after day, that he hadn't lost his charm. Only an eye.  
And back then when he took that photo, alongside his right eye, Stefano lost perhaps less than he won if he thinks back to it.

His view on the world changed. His view on art changed. And Stefano promised himself to let go of amateurish approaches to his own creations, and to the subject of art he now saw in a different, darker light. Dark doesn't mean less beautiful; quite the opposite.

Thoughts twirled within his head, made him sigh before Stefano stood up and straightened his back and, with one hand along the wall, Stefano paced into the bathroom where he turned on the light. Blinking, and out of habit, both his hands want to rub his sleepy eyes---Stefano caught himself before it could hurt. Let his hands drop, defeated, somewhat angry at himself that he was so easily manipulated by old habits. They die hard.

There isn't a mirror in his bathroom. No need to move it away, out of sight, out of mind: the first time Stefano saw himself in the mirror after the incident, he raged. Rampaged. Yelled at his reflection before clenching his right hand to a fist, punching the cold glass to a million pieces. It hadn't hurt to destroy it. There was other pain Stefano had been more concerned with to mind a broken mirror and a bleeding hand, or pieces of sharp glass tumbling on the tiled floor.  
There might still be some stray pieces lying around, Stefano thought. Couldn't bring himself to care more for that, though, as he draws back the shower-curtain to step inside the bath tub.

He showers with steaming hot water, until skin turns red and stings. The doctors forbid him to wash his hair, but he thought if he was careful enough, it wouldn't matter much if he had to change the bandages. Today he'll dare to do so, for long enough he's been putting up with greasy hair and the scratching of his scalp that inevitably came with it.

Fingers carefully remove the strips holding the bandages in place, then, with his heart beating faster and breath hitching, Stefano takes down the gauze one after one. Movements slow, hesitant. Uncertain. The water felt hotter each second that passes, the man flinched a little before reducing the heat of the water. The gauze he mindlessly drops in the sink before turning around in the tub, warm water running down his back. It washed off the terror of his dreams, the pictures inside his head of decapitated soldiers, the guts scattered across the streets. Blood everywhere---Stefano closes his eye. Tries, tries so hard, to shut out those memories as the water continues to stream down his irritated skin. Lightly he bends his head back to wash his hair, enjoys the almost-forgotten sensation of wet strands. The scent of his shampoo he missed as well, though he can hardly tell what it smelt like. Some artificial scent? The bottle reads "Noir", nothing else. It reminds him of sandalwood. Even some cardamom? 

The shampoo he rubbed into his hair, let it soak for a couple minutes before rinsing it carefully, covers the hole on the right side of his face with one hand. Stefano couldn't tell why the doctors worried; he isn't a reckless young boy! And he feels so much better with his hair freshly washed, soap flowing down his back, his arms. 

After drying off, brushing his teeth and getting dressed, only bandaging the wound was left for Stefano to do. For that he stood in front of the big mirror in the living room, carefully applies skin-disinfectant as advised in the hospital before he was to bind it up neat and tidy. Filled with new confidence, silky hair and a black tie fitting the dark blue suit he wore, Stefano smiled the first time today at his reflection. Nightmares not forgotten but shoved into the back of his mind where they'll wait patiently for the dark to come.  
Conscientiously the man checks his watch, finds there wasn't much time left until his appointment. He should get going.


	2. Quintessence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The media shamelessly lied about therapy sessions. There isn't a cosy couch in this doctor's office and Stefano feels... uneasy.

People on the street have always given Stefano strange, sometimes sympathetic glances. Not thanks to the man's popularity - in fact, he wasn't as praised as he wished he'd be - it's his peculiar appearance and since a couple days, the obvious sign of previous surgeries. What happened to him, they must wonder. How does he feel? Is he nervous being in public looking like this?  
Stefano wasn't actually uneasy. That little anxiety he had built up inside had its roots in the upcoming therapy session where he was forced to tell his life and issues to a complete stranger. Admittedly, everyone would feel that way starting psychotherapy. Letting someone look into your life, your mind, into the deepest corners of it sounds scary enough, spending money for it even worse. Stefano burdened himself with trivial thoughts, covering the annoyance building up inside his chest whenever he noticed someone staring at him. He knew it'd happen. And he had thoroughly enjoyed it before the war.  
This day was rainy and cold, alike many other in Krimson City. Sunshine, blue skies behind fluffy clouds and actual warmth was rare; you get used to it eventually, but wouldn't stop to miss the sun. Perhaps, so Stefano thought, a vacation was in order. To get his mind off of things. To escape, if just for a little while. Maybe someday, he decides, he will leave the town for a brighter future, searching for a place he could fit in, where the people would appreciate him, his creations, his art.  
  
The way to the Hospital hadn't felt as long as Stefano thought it would, but he was lost in thoughts; did not notice how much time passed. His pulse rises as Stefano walks onto the Hospital's property, scanning the surroundings and building itself. The Beacon Mental Hospital was shrouded in mystery, odd stories from Krimson's citizens made their rounds in the last twenty years. Tales about patients dying after controversial medical therapy, testing new drugs and anaesthetic on humans before animals. But if a hospital manages to gain money and treat their patients, how bad could it possibly be? Humans like to gossip, and hospitals, psychiatric wards and mentally ill people have always been used as a playground for the humanity's wild imagination.  
  
Stefano crosses the courtyard up until the set of stairs leading into the building, in his pocket he held tight onto the card he received from his doctor assigning him to a psychiatrist. It has to be Ruben Victoriano, he'd said. Krimson City doesn't have a better psychiatrist than him. Of course Stefano believes those words for now, wouldn't have bothered to find himself another doctor in the first place.  
The lady at the reception desk was too busy with her manicure to notice Stefano walking past searching for Victoriano's office. The room-number was written on the card Stefano held in his hand. While searching for it in what was labelled East Wing, Stefano noticed not a single nurse or staff passing by him - of course, the offices aren't close to the wards, but it did strike him as odd. This building was too dark. Too quiet. It began to frighten him to stumble through unknown corridors with limited vision and not more information but a name and a number.  
"20...9. 209," he mumbles to himself, relieved so, with a little sigh leaving his lips. Stefano knocks on the door, straightened his back and quickly adjusts his tie.  
"Come in."  
  
Hand moves to turn the doorknob. Stefano enters a small room with a single window at the opposite side, light shut out using thick brown curtains. A bookshelf stood right from the door he came in, cluttered with old medical books. At a quick glance he reads "Neurosurgery" and "Gray's Anatomy" on the backs before gaze wanders to Doctor Victoriano sitting at his desk - Stefano disguised his distress with a polite smile. This man looked terrifying, covered in bandages from his head to the fingers of each hand. Only now did Stefano recognise the smell of this room as the same in his apartment: Disinfectant, blood.  
"Mr. Valentini?" Doctor Victoriano rose from his seat, extending his hand to greet Stefano standing at the open door, the man himself unable to move or react.  
"Ah, yes. My apologies," so subtle his hand quivers as Stefano reaches for the doctor's covered one, but he wasn't raised to be rude. He closed the door and stepped inside.  
  
In his head there's a voice screaming at him to leave. To close the door after him and walk away from this office, this man --- Stefano did not listen, as hard as it was for him not to. At this point, Ruben Victoriano must have noticed Stefano's fear, his aversion towards him that stemmed from the man's appearance.  
“Pleased to meet you,“ the doctor spoke, voice calm and... soft. No involvement, no emotions, but he didn't seem disinterested. Stefano didn't have any experience to say the way Doctor Victoriano spoke or looked at him was peculiar. Perhaps it's the standard for psychiatrists. That nagging feeling of unease wouldn't leave even as Stefano sat down on the comfortable armchair, crossed his legs and looked at the doctor patiently. He'd not forgotten to answer the doctor, yet to say that Stefano was pleased to meet him would have been a foolish statement, a lie on top of it.

"Before we begin I will inform you about a couple things for you to keep in mind about our sessions. Our conversations will kept in the strictest confidentiality. You won't be criticized, interrupted or judged as you speak. I may only take some notes, or record it, if it does not bother you." The tone of his voice did not change once. Stefano shifts a little in his seat, rests his arms on the sides of the chair.  
"I don't mind recordings," Stefano speaks, "Thank you."  
The doctor nods, proceeds to open a drawer of his desk and pulls out an old cassette recorder, presses play and leans back looking at Stefano who, hardly visible, shifted his weigh again.  
"Mr. Valentini, do you want to tell me what happened to you since you returned from war? How has your life been since then?"  
  
Well, does he? Stefano avoids eye-contact and was forced to actively think about everything that has gone wrong since that day. Soon, he just begins to talk, mind's shut down for the time being. Words flow.  
"I've spend too much time in the hospital after the surgery meant to save what was left of my face back then, and trapped in bed I had plenty of time to reflect on what happened to me. Perhaps I have made the wrong choice, choosing a career as a photographer? An artist capturing the horrors, the disgusting image of mankind during war, is it possible I was being punished for my actions? I blamed everyone but myself, from the surgeons to the soldiers navigating the truck on that day." Stefano took a second to inhale deeply, still he hadn't found the courage to look directly at the man in front of him. He found it rude to stare, though there wasn't a way around for long.  
  
"After they let me go home, I was... relieved. Alive again, I thought! Free, finally, to pick up on my work! But if you miss an eye, creating becomes a task, no more a passion. I haven't found a company to hire me. Haven't found people willing to have their shots taken by me, despite my reputation, despite my talent. They knew I was robbed of an important part of myself, and proceeded to take another. Shamelessly so. As if I was worth nothing. And I tried, tried so hard and determined I was, to look past it and continue. I was unable to find rest at night; if I slept, the cruelty of my dreams would deny me to do so peacefully. Being fatigued did not help my creativity the slightest." Fear made place for anger building up within Stefano, the uncertainty less apparent now that he began to talk about the incident, his emotions although he kept it low. Perhaps too early to tell Doctor Victoriano about his dark thoughts, twisted fantasies and urges that became harder to repress with each passing day of low productivity.  
  
"You have nightmares." It wasn't a question, the psychiatrist wanted to know more about them judging from clearly indicated curiosity.  
"I have. And I remember them all, theatrical as they are, real as they feel. I do not wake up during the night anymore, and I dare not say what is worse. Having to experience them whole until the morning light or waking up in the middle of the night only to fall back into a horror-induced coma." After a couple seconds of silence, Doctor Victoriano picks up the conversation again.  
"What are they about? Memories? A chapter you do not want to talk about?"  
He knows Stefano has so much more burdens to carry, and Stefano himself was surprised that the doctor noticed. How much deeper did he have to go?  
"Ah... Memories. Gunshots, corpses, guts. And blood, everywhere you look there is blood, you smell it, you taste it on your tongue."  
"Blood frightens you?"

Pause. Stefano furrows his brow. The scent wasn't what Stefano would call pleasing and enjoyable, but looking directly at it didn't make his stomach turn. It did not disgust him. What should he be afraid of?  
"No, no. Only if it is my blood. What I see in my dreams is mine. I know it. I feel it. I feel the bleeding from my eye. And it never stops."  
Doctor Victoriano seemed to be distracted, silently taps his index finger on the desk repeatedly, he appeared to be buried in thoughts but nodded when Stefano did not speak.  
"Getting rid of those dreams on a long term takes time and patience, although if you want to, I can prescribe you sleeping pills. The side-effect of them is a dreamless sleep. You might feel relieve instead of fear waking up in the morning, if you wish so."  
There wasn't much Stefano had to consider. If it was so easy to have a silent slumber, then he wants to take that opportunity. Side-effects aside, except the one he desperately wished for, Stefano did not care so much what'd happen to him taking those pills. It's unlikely it could effect his creativity in a bad way, or..?  
"Will it affect my mood? Lower my mental agility?"  
"No. It won't." Ruben was quick to answer, almost harsh. Stefano didn't request more information than that, accepted the man's words and the offer of course.  
"I'll take them, if it is so." 

The psychiatrist wrote the prescription on a form for the pharmacy, signed the paper and reached it over to his client. "You may take one at least an hour before you plan on going to bed, and depending on when you need to wake up the next day. Taking them late at night isn't advised. More side-effect includes a gain in weight, but you should be able to counter that."  
He's lost weight, anyway. It means Stefano doesn't have to eat as much anymore, going against his low appetite didn't do his stomach any good. Stefano folds the piece of paper, slides it into the pocket inside his jacket. Ruben continues to talk, tapping his finger on the desk.  
  
"Until the next meeting you'll notice you've gotten rid of your nightmares, but we will have to work on that subject nonetheless. Before we see each other again, I would ask you to finish a project you have been working on, if there is any. If not, see that you begin a new one, and do not mind however it turns out. Create, and see what it will do to you. We can talk about it the next session. Unfortunately we're out of time for today."  
Stefano wasn't sure if he could do that. Doubts gnawing on everything good he tried to come up with ruined part of the confidence he has had, and there was no time to tell Doctor Victoriano about it now. Instead of finding a way out of homework that was sure to stress Stefano out beyond imagination, the man accepts the task with a nod, a smile.  
Ruben presses the stop-button on the recorder and finally ceases to tap his finger.  
  
"I'll call you about the date for the next session, Mr. Valentini. Have a good day." The doctor extends his hand, before reaching it Stefano stood up, his fingers now curling around Ruben's bandaged hand.  
"Addio, Doctor Victoriano." Stefano's smile showed teeth just before he opened the door and closed it behind him. Standing in the hospital's floor, his smile ceased instantly to an expression of disappointment and anger.  
_"È una perdita di tempo."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> È una perdita di tempo = this is a waste of time. Stefano's speech slips into Italian when he's irritated. :')


	3. The Bird and the Worm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The psychiatrist's pills do their work, Stefano sees a good night's sleep is the most precious gift he could have hoped for. And a new client doesn't sound so bad, either.

Three days passed since Stefano's appointment with Doctor Victoriano, on the same day he picked up the sleeping medication from the pharmacy right after the session, not wanting to lose any more time.  
  The annoyance Stefano built up back then dissipated quick once he left the hospital, and while he was on his way home he thought about the Doctor with a skeptical approach to his appearance, his words. Images of him had burnt themselves into Stefano's mind, igniting the flames of fright, yet curiosity as well. What happened to him, Stefano wondered. What could he be hiding?     
  Researching the doctor beforehand had been a dead end, nothing was published about him aside the opening times and phone number to his office.   
Judging Ruben Victoriano based on a single encounter wouldn't help Stefano getting along with him as a therapist in the long run - doubting whatever someone else had to say about the artist's state of mind was only natural.

Significant Stefano did not deem the Doctor any longer in the morning after taking the pill as advised to him---he woke from dreamless sleep and could hardly believe it was real. Had even pinched his arm to check if he was awake, and, oh joy! These pills worked a miracle! The artist felt refreshed, as if he was given new life. 

This is the first morning Stefano wasn't covered in cold sweat, without black strands of hair wet and sticky on his forehead. 

On the third day without nightmares, Stefano tried to pick up his work. His passion. Refused to let it erode any further by companies declining his offer to work with them, did not let himself become discouraged by harsh critics online. Those people are amateurs who have no eye for art, who would not see a masterpiece if it punched them in the face. The young generation was not the main problem, yet certainly thirty percent of it --- a tragedy he thinks, humanity absorbed by mainstream media without deeper meaning, art without a concept and without emotion. No creativity behind it, only the desire to amass money and gain popularity through social networks where theft also was a terrific threat. So much wasted potential to see online, in magazines, television. Who is there today still crafting pieces of magnificence with their own imagination, without the use of digital help?   
It was a market where Stefano did not fit into, but one where he could make himself a place to advertise. 

Stefano hired someone to set up a website for him to publish unfinished drafts and let him include the artist's contact information. Email, phone-number. Stefano had hope it would draw those interested in his work to him directly, though so far there weren't any requests. People don't like writing mails anymore, and most surely hate to make phone calls. All what was left for him to do was to wait, to lay low when it comes to creativity and work, instead to focus on things that needed to be done around his apartment. 

Someday he should be cleaning all the mess he's made, ripped open packages of medical supplies scattered all over the place.  
The apartment wasn't big in size, Stefano didn't need a lot of space, he spent time here just sleeping and eating. In the living room was where he worked on ideas inside his head, where he was able to relax in the evening while drinking a glass of wine, perhaps have a cigarette on the balcony.   
No pictures hung on his walls here, none of his own creation either; those were in the bedroom. Despite having enough money to afford a certain amount of luxury, the furniture consisted of an average couch and a wooden table in front; a place for his laptop and glass of wine. More wasn't needed. More Stefano did not want, rather spent money on clothes, payed the rent for both the dark room and a photography studio. 

The man leans back against the couch, both hands cover his face, his eye. What is there for him to do without a model, without a person willing to let him do what he can do best - take photos?   
Extravagant, colourful and twisted, the hint of insanity mixed into each piece of work, designed to draw reactions from people so innocent and without the ability to go beyond their safe-space. Desperately he wanted to construct another collection of photographs, preferably for a new exhibit. Stefano's last one has been many years ago, even before he went to war hoping for a jump forward in his career - which didn't work out as well as he thought.

Hands lower slowly upon feeling his phone vibrate inside his pocket; with trembling fingers and a heart beating heavily Stefano pulled it out and took a short glance at the screen. He didn't know the number calling him, but picked up nonetheless.   
"Hello?" A second or two of silence before Stefano hears a woman speak on the other end of the line, and his pulse rises the more.

  "Hi! My name's Ava Warren. Am I talking to Mr. Valentini?"   
  "Ah! Yes, you are. How may I help you?"  
  "Good! My manager found your website and is quite impressed by your works! He called me earlier and told me that you're the one I could be looking for in regards to my new portfolio."

His heart never pounded harder; one would hear excitement in his voice as soon as he replied, a smile on his lips he could not get rid of.  
  "I might just be. Would you like to decide on a date for the first briefing? There isn't any rush, Miss Warren."  
  She answered quick, seemingly as enthusiastic as Stefano.   
  "Does Friday evening sound alright? At 7 would be perfect, I'll be coming from an appointment." The time came for Stefano where he didn't need to worry about his work anymore when just one model brings word about him into the agency.  
  "Friday evening, 7 p.m. it is. I can send you the address soon, including additional information for you."  
  "Great, thank you! I'm looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Valentini."  
  "I'll see you soon, Miss Warren."   
   Stefano hung up before she could, only to let out a long and deep noise of delight, phone thrown across the couch. It takes him a few moments until he caught himself, when heart's no longer pounding as rapidly within its confined place, until Stefano could be entirely sure he wasn't dreaming. So long he waited for a single call, a message, anything from someone interested, never did he get as far as to set a date for meeting his client - and, yes, doubts remain as they always do, there was the possibility of the woman cancelling the meeting an hour before it was due. Much too excited he is to properly think about it, thoughts of getting back into his passion took the upper hand. This was only the beginning, a fresh start to his promising career.

The address Stefano sent with kindest regards and wishing her a good night. For tomorrow Stefano decided he would get up earlier to check on his studio - and to do a background check on Ava Warren since as of now, only her voice is known to him. He cannot recall to have heard her name before, though, who was he to talk?

Exactly the second Stefano stood to go into the bathroom, he heard another incoming call, this time the caller's name appeared on screen. Ruben Victoriano.   
  "...Yes?" Taken aback he scratched the tip of his nose. Images of the doctor popped up in Stefano's mind hearing the man's quiet voice.  
  "Mr. Valentini, I'm calling you to inform you of the next date for your session. Is the 12th February alright with you? At 2." He sounded as if Stefano wasn't given the chance to decline or propose a different day. Naturally he agreed, checking the calender on his laptop. The date's a week from today and will grant him some more time for the project.  
  "Sounds good to me," Stefano replied sitting back down.   
  "Please keep your task in mind until then." Doctor Victoriano ended the call abruptly, leaving the artist to stare at his phone, perplexed and at the same time, Stefano felt at ease knowing things are finally falling into place for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 ! thank you for reading!!!! I'm always excited to see kudos and comments, so please please leave me some if you liked it! I wonder when it'll get interesting? ;')


	4. Beautiful Distortion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who said being an artist would be easy?

_Blade swings trough the air before cutting white flesh, drawing blood, tearing muscles, tendons. Sanguine fluid spills on the floor, droplets of it splash on the man‘s face, his clothes. Creating abstract patterns upon the wall behind. Sharp metal cuts through flesh again and again, stabbing, slicing without any precision; only the intention to hurt. To kill. Quenching the sick desire to see blood._  
_He must have hit a vital point; no more the victim cries, screams are no longer to be heard and the body drops to the ground in a puddle of gore with a quiet thump---_ Stefano jolts awake breathing heavily, gasping for air, thin fingers digging into his hair and scalp to cling onto sanity as desperately as imaginable. Stefano moans, soon it turns into whining, tears streaming down his face. Minutes pass, minutes that felt like hours to him, a long long time until Stefano manages, somehow, to calm himself by rocking back and forth on his bed wrapped in sheets sticking to his naked, sweaty body.  
  „What happened... oh...no...“ A shivering hand wipes the tears in a slow motion, and Stefano remembers that he did not take the pill before going to sleep. Too heavy his heart was pounding still for him to get up, he was concerned that his legs may refuse to carry him into the bathroom.

  
So the man sits on his bed, stares into the darkness of his bedroom. Listens to his heartbeat and far away cars on the streets, occasional sirens and laughter echoing through the district outside the apartment.  
He felt tears clinging to his eyelashes, furiously wipes them away once more, ashamed and exasperated, bleary. Anxiously Stefano turns to look at the clock hanging on the wall --- its 4 am in the morning. Was there any need to try and go back to sleep at such a time? At this rate he couldn‘t even get half an hour...  
  Eventually his breathing evens out. His heart beats at a normal pace, and fingers stop to tremble; but the pictures in his head remain, ruthlessly vivid.

Stefano managed. How he did, how he got up from his bed to drag himself into the bathroom, he cannot remember. Sits at the table in his living-room now watching the sun rise over the skyline of Krimson City, admires the beauty of light blue transitioning to darker hues, orange and purple mixed in between scattered clouds. Stefano lights himself a cigarette, doesn‘t bother to go out onto the balcony; you become desensitized to the smell of cold ash after smoking for years; the only bothersome detail was the stench clinging to his clothes where others noticed it.

A couple hours later Stefano managed to make himself feel human again, took a shower, washed his hair. Changed the bandages and took a closer look at the wound; its healing well, there‘s not a sign of inflammation or irritation. The pain was not as bad as it once has been --- for that he‘s thankful.  
  Concentrating on his plans kept his mind busy, protected him from drifting off into memories of his nightmares; today Stefano decided to check up on his studio - and to search the depths of the internet for information about the model that called him yesterday, Ava Warren.

Stefano‘s view on the outside world changed since the last time he wandered the streets. No longer he recognizes the glances thrown at him, no longer is he bothered by them. Had not exactly come to terms with his peculiar appearance, in fact his head‘s busy unraveling the nightmares that returned to haunt and torture him. So much blood... The Stefano in his dream had enjoyed it thoroughly...  
  All of this because he forgot to take the pills prescribed by a doctor that sternly advised Stefano to never skip a day when it came to his medication---and there Stefano thought the effect wouldn‘t wear out as quick if he forgot them only once. It turns out taking them like scheduled was crucial for Stefano if he wanted no more nights like the previous one.  
Calling his doctor to ask if what Stefano experienced qualifies as normal frightened him somewhat; unsure if he was allowed to call just like this, if that was reason enough to call Doctor Victoriano in the first place---and as quick as the idea came Stefano discarded it. He is able to deal with this and, should it be necessary, informing Doctor Victoriano the next time Stefano sees him was possible, too.

More urgent matters require Stefano‘s undivided attention. Without losing any more precious time, he quickens his pace and crosses the street despite the red traffic light, earns an angry shout from a driver in return. Stefano flashes a bright grin, shows him the middle-finger before disappearing into the building to the left; a complex of office-rooms for rent, IT and graphic design, also including photography and acting: Studios spread over various levels of the building counting to the tallest around the western zone of Krimson City. One of those studios belonged to Stefano; it might not be the biggest and fanciest, but it sure was practical.

The young woman at the reception looks at Stefano with her mouth agape and eyes wide, surprise turns into happiness soon as he walked up to her, smiling nonchalantly.  
  „Good morning, Kate. How have you been doing?“  
  „Why didn‘t you call, Stefano? I had no idea you returned already! We missed you!“ Kate, a young woman without much intelligence but beautifully designed acrylic nails, has been working at the reception since... well, since Stefano rented the studio. Five years. Or six, perhaps more? Today she wore her thick brown hair in a braid, some loose strands framing her round face.  
  „A couple weeks it‘s been. Busy for me I tell you, for I would have come here the minute I got back home but fate was not on my side.“ Stefano spoke with a hushed voice, words meant for her ears and no one else‘s.  
  „Dearest Kate, please have a nice day.“ Stefano turns to walk up to the elevator, thinking that, if anybody missed him, angels would come fly out of his ass the second he walked into the facility.

The elevator takes Stefano to the 15th floor. As the doors open he fidgets for the keys in his pocket, walks down the hallway until he reaches the first and only door on the right side of the floor, turns the key in the hole and enters; heart‘s beating excitedly. God, it felt like forever!  
Lights are switched on, Stefano sure was surprised to discover that the cleaners did their job without him asking them to do so while he was away. Torn between _‚I did not give you permission_ ‘ and _‚Good, I won‘t have to do that by myself‘_ , Stefano takes a walk around the room; it has no windows, works relying on backdrops and headlights--- Stefano‘s creations usually are darker and did not require much lightning, anyway.  
At first glance, it didn‘t seem that anything was out of place or missing, no need for Stefano to tidy up as he actually planned to do today---it leaves him more time to wander, to think. To dwell on memories, as unhealthy as it may be.

One of the first models Stefano captured had been relatively new in the business, hence she wasn‘t as skilled as Stefano wished for but it was a unique experience. The shooting was for a fashion magazine, so the deadline had been tight. It was when Stefano discovered working under pressure wasn‘t for him, though hard to bypass in his business. Unable to remember her name, he would have to take a look into old files and photographs---but her beauty he remembered clearly, the woman‘s bright green eyes, full lips and a heart-shaped face. She was taller than himself even without high-heels, skinny and, overall, a stunning personality. Back then he admired her long auburn hair, made it his goal to capture it‘s essence with every photo he took long before improving photographs digitally was a big thing in the job.

A sigh fell from his lips upon reminiscing how his career began. Bright times long since gone because people refused to truly see the beauty and excellence of his work---before women were tainted by the media‘s unrealistic expectations of them---and long before plastic surgery gained more popularity. Finding a model that looked natural became harder after the big turn in the mass-media, and, on top of it, the consumers relied on it alike a dehydrated fool in the desert making it more and more difficult to reach out to those that might be oblivious to twisted expectations. They all were affected in some way.  
  „What a shame,“ Stefano speaks to himself, „But who said being an artist was _easy?_ “ He leaves the studio after turning off the lights, in his mind the image of a woman with long red hair falling in waves over her slender shoulders, blood splattered on her white dress.

Once home Stefano opens the door to the balcony before lighting himself a cigarette and turning on his laptop. He watches it boot standing in the door-frame, minds the smoke not getting into the apartment. The weather wasn‘t so horrible today, one could hear birds chirping in the distance, cawing crows and the sound of doves scratching over the roof above.  
The sunshine warms Stefano; he awaits the summer and warmer temperatures. Luck be on his side this year, for a summer in Krimson City means twenty percent less rain than usual. Cigarette‘s thrown from the balcony, Stefano goes back inside and sits on the couch, laptop on the table in front of him.  
He types the woman‘s name in the browser‘s search bar, along with the words „model“ and „Krimson City“, just to be safe. Eye‘s glued to the screen, fingers froze over the keyboard when pictures of her pop up, and Stefano couldn‘t believe his luck.  
  
She was alluring. Glossy red hair, wavy and long enough to cover half her back. Stefano clicks on the first photo that came up, it shows her posing for what seemed to be a gothic-magazine, wearing a black layered corset dress. Stefano is sure it was the make-up and lightning making her appear so pale; but would not mind either way, captivated by warm brown eyes and dark red lips. More and more pictures he clicks on, staring at each for longer than needed---he had a first impression of her, more wasn‘t necessary---Stefano couldn‘t help himself.  
„ _So much potential..._ “ A sad tone there is to his voice, but never before was Stefano as determined to capture someone in ways only _he_ could imagine.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm... I bet there's typos somewhere in here... OH, i have a tumblr! find me @victorianoruben! ♥


	5. Menacing Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano comes to terms with his appearance and has.. an epiphany.

Friday couldn't come soon enough, Stefano waiting on edge and late on Thursday evening he drank one glass of wine more than usual, aware of the effects it may have on his medication, but cared the less. This night he went to bed earlier, the childish part of his brain hoping it'd make Friday morning come sooner---waiting for her arrival alike a child expects Santa. But his sleep was content and quiet, free from sick dreams and unlike two days ago Stefano didn't wake with the scent of blood lingering in the air around him---imagination had been running wild that day, yet spared Stefano this morning. 

The man still has half the day to sit and wait. Spent almost an hour after eating something little for breakfast to pace around the flat, humming to himself, the woman's photos appearing before him unintentionally. A couple of those Stefano found on the internet he saved to his laptop, those few he deemed beautiful enough even though he didn't agree with the photographer's choices in most cases. Not enough lightning, or too much lightning, then black and white? Seriously? He scoffs thinking about it; how he certainly can do better than those amateurs, able to preserve her beauty unlike any other person. 

Photography began colorless, only with contrasts, black and white and grey. Dull, boring in most cases unless done right. Stefano's opinions always differed from those of other artists in the scene, from which came the issues he's had for several years to properly connect to them, to reach out perhaps receiving advice when he was relatively new to the business. No one would help him, though, none replied to messages and the situation worsened after his first own exhibition. Controversial the critics called his works. Without any meaning, others said. It made Stefano furious--- but never did he say a word to those people writing up critics for a tiny amount of money for magazines that featured nothing valuable but borderline pornography and women posing only to show off their nasty tattoos. 

Instead of changing his ways, Stefano continued eager as never before. Determined to prove these people wrong, always driven by the fact that a handful of admirers exist; they've bought four of his very first pieces for a price higher than Stefano set it as. Not everybody was clueless and blind. His goal was set, the way to reach it up until this day has been long and crowded with obstacles---giving up was never an option for Stefano. An artist does not give up, he keeps creating, improving, growing from negativity and harsh words towards the result of hard work. Stefano learned from being shunned by fellow artists, learnt to overhear their cruelties directed at his very own imagination and the outcomes of such and one day, he's sure, they'll reap what they sowed.

His back hurt a bit from tensing his muscles all the while he mindlessly wandered around the living room, past mirrors hidden behind sheets of linen; the tension releases once Stefano notices that, if there's any chance she would see it and ask him about the mirrors, he would be too ashamed to explain it all. It was time to reveal them again.

Back he goes into his bedroom to pull the linen from the big mirror of his wardrobe. He stands before it, seconds turning into minutes while Stefano remained immobile, staring at the fabric and he felt anxiety peak within his chest. Heartbeat increases, his pulse rises uncomfortably high but still, muscles refuse to act upon the orders they received.   
  Wasn't it too early? Too unrealistic looking at himself again, visually reminded of what he lost...? Stefano concerns himself too much about it to think straight, thoughts tumble, twist, spin violently.

A sharp inhale follows the sudden movement of his arm, fingers that curl into dark, thick fabric unnoticably trembling before Stefano pulls and tenses. 

His eye closes, the man's left hand covers it to hide the disturbing imagery that was Stefano's own face. In God he never believed, but if there was another holy being, an entity that would listen to a desperate prayer, please spare him from the cruelty in front of him---

The eye opens, lashes tickling skin of his hand still covering it. Ever so slowly he moves the hand away from his face, felt the warmth tingling on his cheeks and nose. 

Stefano looks at his reflection in the mirror, lips parted slightly, skin pale and half of what once was a mesmerizing face hidden behind bandages. 

This didn't fit him.

There was no need for the bandages any longer. In what felt like an anxiety induced frenzy, Stefano tugged at the gauze, careful at first, desperate soon until he tore it apart and let it drop to his feet.

Revealed to him was a dark shadow where his right eye had once been. Not a hole like he always imagined it; they tried to imitate his eyelids, sewed skin shut leaving behind ugly scars. Never had he taken off the bandages completely, relied on probing around the skin of the wound for inflammation; not the best way to do so, he admits, but looking at it has been... impossible. Unbearable as it turned out today, too. 

The sight shook Stefano to the core, caused his body to react violently; with trembling limbs, shallow breaths, an ache within his chest and tears that well up in his eye. They fall soon, dripping down long eyelashes to his cheek and downward. 

This isn't me, he thought, this cannot be me. I died on that day and left behind a shell filled with regrets, fear and anxiety. 

Traumatized. Broken, miserable---

Sadness evolved into anger, fury, hatred, it all mingled into one sensation consuming the artist, spilling emotions onto a blank white canvas to create a true masterpiece.

The moment he lost his eye changed Stefano. To the point of no return, possibly never recovering and without the chance to retrieve what was lost, yet he felt like he gained something in exchange. To capture the world only he envisioned it, to see what others could never wish to experience, could never dream of.   
The moment of loss, decay, death, the second your dreams shatter into a million pieces with sharp edges waiting to be picked up; inflicting unbearable pain in the process.   
  Stefano remembers it all so clearly. The gore, the heat, the obnoxiously loud noises. They caused his head to ache, made him panicky---though in the split second of death he lingers, forced to relive it again and again. Almost beautiful he deemed it, and if only he was able to capture it with his camera...

Time passed. Slowly so, maddening almost. Stefano used the time until meeting Ava to clean up the mess he's made with the bandages, removed sheets from any mirror inside his apartment and may have smoked too many cigarettes between it all. The smell of cold ash clung to his clothes, had Stefano think about changing before she showed up and would smell it. He knows from strangers before he began to smoke himself how badly it stank, and he hates how the smoke stays on his fingers after a cigarette.  
Clueless about what to wear, rather beaten up about his absolute lack of fashion sense today, in the end he picked a simple pair of black jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt.

The scar was covered with strands of hair styled to fall over the left side of his face, the incisions no more in plain sight but not completely hidden --- after all, it was a part of Stefano that belonged to him no matter how he thought about it. There was nothing anybody could do to help him overcome the trauma, no one to lend him a hand while he tried desperately to accept himself like he was.

When his thoughts could finally focus on meeting his new model, Stefano became ecstatic again and wonders if he could interest her in working with him when her project finishes; depending on how their first shooting turns out, though. As far as he can tell, after seeing her posing, seeing her expressions change photo after photo, Stefano couldn't find anything that would not fit his style, his art. Finding her, or the other way around, felt like a sign from above. She called him when he thought he was lost; Stefano felt like this no longer on that day, the epiphany he has had earlier of course adding to the man's joy. Chances stood before him only waiting to be taken.

Seven in the afternoon, not a minute later or sooner, he heard the doorbell ring twice. Stefano hurried to the door, had to contain himself though from not acting like a young boy meeting his favourite celebrity; one deep breath he took before opening the door for her.   
  Seeing her in person, finally, after hours and days of anticipation and being on edge, it felt as though the stress and tension fell off of him almost instantly. He couldn't get out a single word to greet her, but smiled ever so brightly.   
  "I am delighted to finally meet you, Miss Warren," when he found his voice, it didn't sound quite like his own to Stefano, "Please, come in."   
She is smiling, too, and beautifully so as she walks past him, Stefano breathing in her perfume; cannot quite tell what she smelled like in particular, but he recognized peach, magnolia, vanilla --- would call it flowery, fruity and sensual. Not too pushy. Not too easy. The perfect mix. 

"Thank you so much for inviting me over! When I browsed your photographs and portfolio, I got excited about possibly working together with you one day," she speaks walking into the living room, not inspecting her surroundings but rather looked at Stefano next to her, who couldn't get that dumb smile off his lips. If he was to be honest with Ava, she'd think he's not much different from a creepy stalker and fanboy. Stefano chose to remain silent about the fact that he too fell in love with the woman's talent.  
  "Pleasure is mine, Miss Warren. You can make yourself at home." Stefano gestures to the couch, barely managed to resist the temptation to touch her hair... She wore it down today, crimson waves falling over her back and exposed shoulders. He almost felt bad for those worn jeans he chose to put on earlier, seeing Ava dressed in a simple but chic black dress ending shortly before her knees.   
  Ava sat down crossing her legs while Stefano stood there, heart thumping stronger, faster than before. "Do you want something to drink? Tea, maybe?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long and I miss Ruvik. :(


	6. Fantasia Debole, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selfish, selfish, selfish.

Not long ago, Stefano's thoughts were filled with self-pity and regret and fury towards himself, towards the soldiers he accompanied that one fateful day. He had cursed the surgeons for ruining his face, mind's been filled to the brim with insults, hateful speech. How was there a chance to connect to humanity with an appearance like his, Stefano wondered, and he doubted all the artist stood for until that day, until this day. Though in this very minute sitting next to Ava and enthralled by her beauty, auburn hair shiny in the light of the lamp, Stefano feels as if the universe meant for it all to happen so she could be here on this exact day. She has a reason to be here. She is meant to be around him. 

Stefano knows.

  "Please do tell me a bit about what you had in mind for a shooting and your portfolio, Miss---"   
  "Call me Ava, please! We'll be working together for some time, so there's no need for courtesy." Of course Stefano was the type to be polite --- therefore wouldn't dare decline her offer.   
  "Call me Stefano, then," he replied with a smile, one she reciprocated, "What do you have in mind?" She looks at Stefano, for a couple seconds so, until her lips curl into a little smile and she begins to talk. 

  "For a new possible contract with a gothic fashion-magazine, I wanted to do something truly special! Something new, what hasn't been done yet, something that... makes people wonder, stay in awe and watch. The magazine features lingerie, as well and I'm not the shy nature!" She speaks so excitedly about it as if there wasn't anything more beautiful in this world. As if this was a job made for her only, perfection brought to surface by Ava speaking about it alone and sure to amass quite the amount of new readers and, another huge possibility, the same goes for Stefano's photography when simply his name was written down below the pictures. A work of art so easily printed inside a mundane magazine for anyone to see; and people will call it magnificent. 

  His eyes lighten up. The man excited just as much as Ava was, with her voice quivering ever so slightly. Now his does, as well.  
  "Wonderful! Of course you didn't mention anything specific--- but that would be my job to do, wouldn't it?" Stefano cannot help it; imagines the woman dressed in black lingerie, posing for his camera, for him alone.   
  He shifts a bit in his seat and reaches for the cup of tea before him. Had to keep his hands busy in whichever way. Ava didn't take her eyes off of him once and Stefano only wonders if she was aware of the effect a simple sentence like hers had on him; was it obvious, perhaps? He felt his face heat up slightly. Could it be seen?

  "Do you have an idea in mind, then? The clothes I can provide, and a good make-up artist can be found in no time," she talks as if she hadn't noticed anything about Stefano being a little... strange. Before answering, he takes another sip of the tea.  
  "A make-up artist won't be needed. I'd rather take care of this myself if you allow me. All you will need to bring on the day of the shooting is yourself and the outfits you want to wear. Hmm..." Patient she is, Stefano thinks. His head empty, void of ideas that before were blooming endlessly; he had thought it to be simple, speaking his mind, but with her close and not only smiling at him from within photographs, it was difficult to focus on the task at hand. Ava doesn't speak but smiles at him slightly. It was enough to fluster Stefano, his previous professional demeanour almost... vanished. He gathers what was left of it, and makes a decision.

  "Why don't you see for yourself? I'll show you a few of my previous works. It might just spark beautiful ideas."   
  "Oh! Yes, please!" Her face lit up with anticipation of what was to come; Stefano had only released a handful of his works and he deemed it the right moment to share a couple of other works with her. Showing his art to people felt intimate to him, and not everything he was ready to share yet.   
Stefano gets up, walks to the other end of the living room feeling her gaze glued to his back;  reaches to open a drawer to grab a folder filled with prints. Stefano takes a deep breath before going to sit back down next to her, anxious but excited about her reactions to his unreleased art.

"You see, I haven't had much luck as of late. Unfortunate events surely led to my creativity to... fall, slightly so, and time has not been on my side either. Though I am certain working together with you might just help me rise and go beyond a low point of my career. After all, what would an artist be without a muse..?" He's talking so sweetly, voice hushed and thick with appreciation, trying adamantly to keep Ava occupied on him and him alone; to gather her motivation plus desire to work with and for him. Selfish, was it not...? Picking up piece by piece what others shattered for him, minding not the sharp edges nor pointy ends of fragments while delicately Stefano builds a fundamental for himself to work upon. Self-centred on the one hand but oh so inclined to her on the other, that denying to work together seemed like... losing what was left. 

He flips through the first couple pages, blank, only meant for notes and the sort, before Stefano hands her the thin book filled with creations eagerly awaiting approval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just letting you know im still alive and writing! Short after a rather long time, but I hope it'll get me back on track. ♡


	7. How long will you hide your Face?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art and pain go along like wine and cigarettes.

Slowly she flips through the pages of the book Stefano handed over to her, stays on each page for several minutes. Admiring, fascinated, lastly inspired for works of her own - their own. Photographs depicting women half naked posing on a couch that looks oddly alike the one in Stefano's apartment, the one she's sitting on right now; some on the ground with an Angel's wings clipped and burnt, their hair a mess around them, women with pale faces and blood on their lips holding a glass of what surely isn't wine.  
  "I don't mind how our session will look as long as the end result have this aesthetic and manage to convey the emotions you've captured in all of those. They're wonderful," she's at loss for words, Stefano can tell. Watched her watching his art, watched her eyes widen and mouth form silent words, observed every oh so tiny change of expression on Ava's face. Stefano has to smile, and widely so, takes the book from her hands, fingers touching hers lightly. A wave of heat's spreading through his arm, into his chest and up to his neck, cheeks, nose. Flustered but delighted, Stefano closes the thin book and puts it in his lap before replying to her, the smile never once left his lips.  
  "That can be arranged. For a gothic-magazine you mentioned, the vampire-aesthetic is extremely popular... but perhaps too mundane? Too common, I think! What else is there?"  
  "Stereotypes don't need to be fulfilled, plus I think the whole vampire-scheme has lost it's appeal over time. Though, don't get me wrong, I do love me some blood for that special touch on photos." She laughs at that, not a nervous laugh because, oh boy, forbid a woman finding blood appealing and fear thy lord for admitting to yourself and anybody else to like something as nasty and horrific as blood, but a laugh so happy and loud Stefano cannot help but to join; and he finds some words to say, to reassure that blood can be... added.

  "If you so desire, then blood it will be. Nudity, lingerie and blood as the basic sounds like an adventure, doesn't it? We find contrasts between your pale skin and hair, elements that play with them and add necessary colours, shadows, red and black and white of course, whatever we can find we'll see to add it for one picture where the focus lies on the clothing, one where it doesn't and, I find so most important, one where you are in the focus. After that, let's see how we can play around more." The man feared he talked too much too soon, too quick, uncertain about it being too much; isn't that how previous models were scared off? Two or three never called him back after motivation struck like lightning, creativity flowing freely when before it wasnt allowed to do so, when it would find nothing but deaf ears. Though in Ava he has found someone to listen, a person that loves to do so judging from the way she looks at him: interested, in awe, smiling ever so slightly which causes his heart to skip a couple beats. He never wants to see her stop smiling. Would love so to hear her laugh again...  
  "I knew that coming to you for my portfolio was the right choice. I wouldn't have ever come up with those ideas, this imagery if it hadn't been for your previous work! I thought it would be difficult to find out how to work together, considering I never had the joy of working together with someone like you, who doesn't look at things like other photographers tend to do," a break then, Stefano looks into her eyes and forgets to breath for seconds straight, afraid, scared, no, no, no no no, why would it be difficult to work with him!? Why would she say that, after everything he said, after it all--- "But it was so easy, like talking to a friend you've known for ages. You have the right eye for things and I can't wait until we can finally begin the real work!" Stefano leans back. Takes a deep breath, shakes his head and grins, chuckles quietly before Stefano looks back at Ava, overwhelmed by all those feelings inside him in such little time. He thought he would snap.  
  "It means a lot you would say that. I haven't been very lucky lately when it came to my work. Better times are coming now, I feel." Her gaze gives away empathy for his situation, Stefano can tell it doesn't leave her cold. She may have stopped smiling, a more serious expression's on her face now, still Stefano feels... cared for. She begins to speak to him softer, quieter.

  "You've been through... hardships. I don't know what happened, and you dont have to worry about me probing. I've barely just met you!" Ava's lips curl into a courteous smile, her hand then comes to lay on his. "I've seen _it_. And I don't think it defines who you are. You're a brilliant artist, talented and your work is unique. When I came here today I simply thought this'll be us talking about the basics before moving on to work, but it felt like more than just that." Her hand on his captivated Stefano's thoughts completely. Dared not take his hand away although it felt like he should; there's no malice to her touch, no, that was not the issue, it was Stefano feeling overwhelmed and a bit ashamed that she saw his wound and wouldn't say anything until now. Either a sign she didn't mind it, like she said, or it was meant to hurt him in this moment of weakness he showed---the man's thoughts have been jumping from good to bad, from crying to laughing to screaming, back and forth in such a short time that Stefano himself doesn't quite know what he truly feels. Is she trying to help? Is she trying to hurt him..?  
  "I've been... not..." His voice sounds weak, hoarse, enthusiasm lost and it was as though the joy hasn't ever been seeping into his speech barely minutes before. In this moment of him trying to say something, she squeezes his hand gently, showing she's still there, listens. "I've been trying." It was all Stefano could say. Feels tired and weakened like the time before she reached out to work with him. He wishes she would stay until he was able to talk his mind, until the mess within his head cleared and shadows disappeared. 

Perhaps having their session to look forward to will help him stay calm, will help Stefano be able to focus. She doesn't want to harm him in any way. He would feel that strongly, wouldn't he? Nothing she has said or done have away ill intentions, it was only his head playing tricks on him - because why should he be allowed to have something good for once?  
The room remained silent for a little while, with Ava's hand on his, their breathing the only sound adding to the atmosphere meant to calm Stefano, to quieten those words he repeatedly hears inside his head. Of worthlessness, pity, shame. Slowly her thumb caresses the back of Stefano's hand.  
  "You can achieve anything you set your mind to," she speaks to him gentle, voice hushed and soft, "I'll try my best as a muse for your upcoming project." Stefano stares at her, at first unsure about how he should react, what words to pick, if he should smile or leave it at that with a simple 'thank you' or even ask her to leave or beg her to stay because he cannot bear to be left alone here ---  
  "I have no words-" But actions, he puts his free hand on Ava's, holds tight onto her, afraid to let go of a muse that was so hard to find... in fact, found him.  
  "And that's okay, too."

 

In the end Stefano sent her away, politely so, promising it wasnt about her in the slightest and he thinks she understood. She had seen for herself how fragile his psyche was, Stefano now could not help but wonder, in fright surely, if there would come a call from Ava or her manager saying there won't be a session between them because she found a photographer that wasn't as unstable as himself; though, no, their bond as thin and delicate it may only be after their first meeting, its definitely there and it wasnt one to be torn so easily. Stefano adored her laugh, her smile, the sparkle in her eyes when she talks, how her hair flows down over her shoulders. There wasn't a single thing Stefano would describe as foul about Ava, none of her words, sentences, appeared malicious to him unlike from various other models in the past upon seeing him; with one or two eyes didn't matter. Years ago and before the accident, Stefano had known about his appearance to be beautiful and saw himself as handsome, did not mind words from shallow women once or so he thought. It must have... struck nerves every time, over and over, and until surgery he had never known how much it truly affected him. 

Stefano thanked Ava, twice or perhaps... three times before she left, and promised to call tomorrow after breakfast (had to ask when she had the time in the morning without trying to sound creepy, and she just laughed) without naming a reason for that call in the first place. She seemed to know without the man having to say so out loud - 'I'm not feeling my best now and would like to talk to you as soon as I do' - which is only more reason to keep in touch with Ava. Metaphorically and... literally, hopefully. 

  Stefano went to bed with mixed feelings. There was hope, fear on the other side. Creativity, more fear. He felt lightheaded thinking back to the feeling of her hand on his, the warmth to her touch, the curve of her lips, and again there was fear; only knowing her like this, for so little time on top of that, scared Stefano to think she would be gone after he finished working on her photographs. He feared she would leave before he was finished, too, because maybe she wouldn't like his ideas or ways of working. Fear, fear, fear... Stefano closes his eye, covers his face with both hands and rolls to the side, exhaling loudly. He doesn't fear Ava. He fears Ava leaves Stefano behind cold and miserable like he was right now, with unfinished work and unresolved feelings.  
  "Why _would_ she leave..?" He asks himself, whispers into the darkness of his room, brows furrowed. "She sounded like she wouldn't. Ever." 

  
***

_Delicate fingers grab a fist full of auburn hair, pulling, twirling strands around his thumb increasing the force he had on her, yanking her head back so she would look him into the eye. Cold blue met warm brown, he could see tears glistening in her eyes---not enough reason for him to stop or to slow his pace. Stefano's free hand rests on her naked back, pushing her body down while he thrusts into her relentlessly, forcefully, mercilessly. With each thrust she's moaning louder, begs him to fuck her harder, faster, to go deeper!  
  Stefano bends down to her, kisses Ava's flushed cheek, then pressed his forehead against hers; eyes locked, mouths agape breathing heavily._

_"Stefano! ---Oh, God---!" Deeper he can't thrust into her from that position, but he sure can go faster; thrusts gained speed, skin smashed against skin and he hears her whining and  begging, tells him not to dare stop, she repeats his name followed with 'please' and 'fuck!' over and over and over --- Stefano grins widely before releasing the grip on her hair, pulling away from her so she can turn around, lay on her back. She reached for him already, spread her legs as wide as possible not ashamed to show how needy she was, how desperate... Once more Stefano comes closer, to bend down, to kiss her lips, pushes himself inside her warmth with a groan. Instantly Ava wraps her legs around Stefano, pulls him closer, forced his cock to go even deeper_  
_"You're mine," Stefano whispers against her skin, lips so so close to Ava's earlobe. She clenched around him, digged her nails into the tensing muscles of his backside._  
  "Ste--fano--I'm yours." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Ruben :(  
> Thank you so much for being patient!!!!


	8. Novocaine for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are better left unspoken.

Upon awaking from a dream so vivid and intense, Stefano found he's not only built up unbearable heat inside his body, there's a hard knot in his lower stomach as well, and his cock was throbbing lightly; wetness gathered between his legs, sticky and warm. Fingers dig into bed sheets, violently so, gaze fixated on the bulge Stefano wasn't sure how to handle without making more of a mess than it already is. His heart he felt beating excitedly, muscles of his fingers twitching to move, to touch, to release the tension built up from this dream. Realization wouldn't come to him, reasoning far out of reach. All the man sees is the image of Ava's exposed back in his mind, hears her voice ringing in his ears as if she was right beside him - Stefano wished she was. 

Grip on the sheet is released to notice fingers had become stiff and cold before they're wandering underneath the fabric, find themselves caressing the muscles of Stefano's abdomen before ghosting further below touching his arousal. A light squeeze then, one hand curls around hard flesh feeling it throb eagerly awaiting friction: Stefano bites down on his lower lip when he begins to move his hand slowly up his shaft, down again gaining speed and with that, force as well. Holding tightly Stefano has to lay back down, legs spread just a little as images from the dream flashed before his eye, half made up thanks to imagination running wilder once awake: how she looked at him, how she moaned his name and begged for more, digging nails into his flesh leaving marks. With a long drawn out moan Stefano came, in ecstasy tenses his fingers even further and doesn't mind any cum getting on the sheets or his hand. Muscles were firm before relaxing, breath's ragged and loud as he rides out the last moments of his orgasm wishing the feeling wouldn't ever fade away. 

He kicks off the blanket, sits up with his hand still around his half-hard cock, ecstasy on it's peak and with it guilt and shame - a mixture not-so-pleasant inducing anger to following actions. Stefano, unrelenting holding on to his cock, pulls skin back and forth trying to force another orgasm. He doesn't want it to end so quickly, craves more of this, blind with lust and the primal urge to fuck that woman he just met a day ago all caused by a silly dream of her wet pussy. Stefano shouldn't have let her leave his apartment yesterday, should have asked her to stay using whatever apology he could have possibly thought of to have Ava close to him, to make dreams reality before they would even occur. It could have prevented that mess he's made of himself, his bedsheets and thoughts all the same if only he'd acted sooner. Why wouldn't she agree? Why shouldn't she --- they could have started something new, together, he was tired of only using his hands! 

Tears formed in his eye from pain and anger and the faint feeling of disgust towards his very own thoughts, of those images his mind creates relentlessly picturing Ava naked and at his mercy.   
A second time Stefano comes, mutters curses through gritted teeth before wiping the fluids off using a blanket.

Where before he was filled with joy meeting her, now Stefano felt nothing but shame. He had washed off the evidence. Cleaned the bed and tried not to look at the wet spots seeping into the fabric; all so with a grim expression as if he'd just committed a horrible crime. _I'm a grown man, why should I feel ashamed? I haven't done anything wrong!_ Why would he even have to make up his mind and forbid himself thoughts like these, or feel bad about having wet dreams? Ava doesn't need to know, although the desire to have her close didn't vanish, for the time being Stefano figured there wasn't any way to actually have her as near to him as the man wanted, so he sees no need to tell her about it at all. God forbid he would do so, casually mentioning that, _oh, I've dreamt of fucking you senseless, and then got off to the thought of you screaming my name on top of your lungs!  
Twice._

  After he took a shower Stefano felt somewhat cleaner, yet didn't have the courage to call Ava this moment. He didn't exactly specify the time anyway, hasn't had proper breakfast either -- but truth be told, Stefano wasn't feeling hungry at all. Not even a coffee seemed like a good idea. Instead of an actual healthy breakfast he lights a cigarette on the balcony, blowing out the dream of last night along with the cigarette's smoke. Sure, he does wonder where it all stems from. If it was simply Stefano being horny without him noticing before due to stress or excitement, or if he's actually having a huge crush on his new model that should remain blissfully unaware of everything that Stefano just did.   
  "She's fucking with my mind and doesn't even know about it," voice be but a whisper, low and sounding not angry but pitiful. How big was the part of him that **wants** her to know?

It was about time he gets himself to call Ava. Its ten in the morning. He promised to call. Feels bad when searching for her number on his phone, trying to find a good excuse should she ask why he called so late. Today is the day where Stefano would finally get back to work, but joyous he felt not... Tapping the green symbol wasn't so hard, waiting for Ava to pick up though proved a real challenge. No going back now, Stefano.  
  "Good morning!" God, she sounds so happy. He smiles like an idiot, a wide and honest smile that hopefully never fades.  
  "Good morning to you too, Ava. You sound excited." He wanders around the flat, right hand on his hip. Restless.  
  "Of course I am! I get to work with you! I can't wait, and its only a couple hours until we begin, there's still so much to do - oh God, I can't wait! - Sorry! Are you feeling better..?" He could notice her demeanor changed during her last sentence, and so disappears his smile as well. Ava meant no harm asking, but Stefano rather wouldn't have her mention it.  
  "Mhm, yes," a break then, causing Stefano to feel bad about intending to leave it at this, "You've helped me yesterday, and I truly do appreciate it. I cannot thank you enough." He heard Ava exhale, felt as though as she was smiling when she spoke now.  
  "You're welcome, Stefano." Shivers run down his spine hearing Ava speak his name. It was all that was needed to make Stefano flustered, to have him lose grip on his self-control. The man chuckles while wiping strands of hair out of his face, holding onto his neck then before regaining composure. She made him feel so... weak.  
  "Stefano?"   
  "Yes?" More shivers. _So pleasant._  
  "I can't wait to see you again."

Those violent mood-swings may be the end of him one day. From horny to angry, ashamed and self-loathing, then a big leap to happiness and excitement in such a short time. Stefano doesn't quite know what he is feeling currently, only can tell it was a lot and not unpleasant. Mostly. Fear remained. It always did. The fear of Ava not liking the results of their work, of Stefano's creation, that she may state her dislike to his face, although this wasn't his worst fear. The worst case scenario he could think of was her loving it, yet leaving him behind after finished business. How should he hang onto a newly found muse if the artist himself was unable to voice what was on his mind, is on top of that filled with doubts and scared of a downfall?  
  He couldn't let her go.  
  He wouldn't.

"Have you been waiting? I'm so sorry!" She walked up to him looking distressed, not her happy self from yesterday. Stefano felt a sting to his heart, something's not right. That she arrived a couple minutes late wasn't of concern, didn't matter to him at all for he would have waited longer and could have called her to clarify if something happened - or if she changed her mind. Once he spotted her across the street with a cup-holder including two cups of coffee in her hands, it was as though as a weight fell from his chest. He had given her the address to his studio, and waited there for her.  
  "No, you needn't be. Are you feeling alright?" The man worries deeply, before taking a step closer he puts down the bag he brought with him to the studio. Since he wasn't sure if he had the make-up he needed today already here, Stefano decided to gather all that he's had left at home too. Ava could pick if she so wanted.  
  "I was already five minutes late when I decided to stop by a coffee shop and too late that I realized I don't even know how you take your coffee in the first place. So, uh, it's a regular Latte because that's my favourite."   
  "You... worried about that?" She shrugs. Offers him the cup with his name on it and forces a smile. No, this doesn't look right...  
  "I'm not picky at all, but a few minutes more and I would have worried, and would have called you," not hesitating Stefano takes the cup from her, lifts it in an appreciating gesture, "Then I would have told you Latte is just fine, but please no sugar." All worries fell from her, she laughed and let him know just like this that waiting for her, now and before, was the only right decision he ever made.  
  "I'm safe, then? I would have gone back to get you your favourite brand, oh well! We might as well have to later because this day will be a long one. But did you actually think I could leave you hanging like this..?"  
  "Oh dear... No, not at all," Stefano hesitates, "I worried. Something could have happened that  none could have possibly foreseen. Never would I doubt you." Heat spreads throughout his body for lying so shamelessly; but what should he do..? It is not that Stefano suspected Ava not to show up out of malice, no... Stefano did not think to deserve something so good before it had been right under his fingertips.  
  "I will call next time, promise! Now I would love to see your studio!" Her eyes have that wonderful sparkle in them again, the warm chocolate brown that could turn Stefano weak just like that, plus the promise of a next time was more than he dared ever ask for.   
  "Follow me, then."

Today she wears her hair bound back in a ponytail, except for a couple of loose strands she couldn't fit in framing her face. Stefano didn't see any make-up, either, so he could have an easy time thinking of what make-up to use in the first place. He thinks she looked gorgeous yesterday afternoon as well as now walking beside him in casual clothes and no foundation or eyeliner. Step by step they're getting closer to the studio, remaining quiet while walking aside each other, coffee in hand and Stefano musing about make-up choices for later. Light foundation, dark lipstick and soft red on her cheeks, or perhaps the brightest red he could find, glossy and shiny for her lips, eyeshadow to match clothing. Possibilities are endless, she was right to assume they'd spend the rest of this day together here in his studio. Coffee was certainly needed at some point later today.  
  "There we are. I apologize, it may be a little cold inside. Between shoots you can dress in a robe I've gotten for that specific occasion."  
  "Ohhh, a cozy white bathrobe with your initials on it?" Surely she meant to make a joke, but...  
  "...yes."  
  "...I don't know why, but I kinda expected you'd wear that, Stefano." He wasn't exactly hurt by Ava reading into him being... a little pretentious, since yeah, he was, so instead the man couldn't help but to chuckle. No need taking offence to something as trivial as his initials on a bathrobe.   
  "You would be surprised to learn that I also own underwear with my initials stitched on it." Stefano says unironically, keeping a straight face opening the door to his studio. Ava snorts and cannot think of a comeback yet; may be he's gone a little too far.   
  "Obviously, Mr. Valentini, but what about a personalized pen? My mother used to stitch my initials on all of my clothes when I was a child, this isn't as special as you think!" Stefano looks at her, deadpanned, pulls out a slim black pen with his birthdate and name engraved into the material. "I would've been ashamed if my mother ever did that, to be honest."  
  "I can't believe you---you're one of a kind," she takes that pen from him to examine it, smiling at Stefano telling nothing but the truth about personalized clothes and whatever other utensils have his name on them, "I simply took a wild guess, hoping it was too ridiculous to be true. I'm not judging you, though, I'm somehow jealous of that pen in particular."  
  "Plus you've learned how old I am. All part of an evil plan exposing I'm not a lad of 20 years as I claim to be to the public? Shocking..."  
  "Shit, no... you've figured it out? Quick for your age."  
  " _Oh, dio_..." Stefano pinches the bridge of his nose, eye closed with a sigh acting devastated by Ava's remark. Hours ago he had been afraid of seeing her, unsure how to act around her and what to say in the first place. Something about her relaxed him. Made Stefano feel at ease, heart's beating fast inside his chest. So long unable to be happy, calm at the same time, there was no more space for fright.   
  Stefano doesn't want to lose Ava. He will keep her by his side no matter what it takes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stefano wears shorts that have "JUICY" written on the ass.


	9. See the Fire in Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cruel, cruel world.

"Are there any other personalized items I could find around here? I wish I payed more attention back in your apartment..." She really did sound sad about that fact, Stefano thought while setting up the laptop. Though he did not regret showing Ava the pen, he could not help but wonder if he appears as pretentious as he fears currently. She jokes about it - no malign intentions for sure - doubts gnawed at Stefano about perhaps having said too much without properly thinking first.  
  "Hmmm..." Taking a sip of Latte, not much thoughts are wasted on the topic any longer; he never cared so much what others thought, convinced that he was superior however someone else looked at it. Why bother with the opinions of strangers? Stefano deserved to be able to show off.  
  Ava possibly judging him internally hurt him no matter what he told himself.  
  "I dont think so, actually. Am I disappointing you now?" The man turns to look at her standing on the opposite end of the room unpacking her bag with clothes she needed for their session. He caught a glimpse of lingerie as Ava put the clothes in order, welcomes the pleasant heat tingling in his lower abdomen at the sight.  
  "No, no," she hums, distracted, "Well, a little bit."  
  "That's jealousy speaking." Stefano replied promptly, grins, goes back to unpack the supplies. He heard her giggle, but no response other than that came. Both kept busy with their tasks at hand, the room stayed silent for a good couple minutes. Stefano felt utterly comfortable like this, knowing she was around.  
  "Do you mind if I put on some music?" Working was much more fun with the right music playing in the background. He suspects Ava thought the same.  
  "Not at all! Surprise me! I'm almost done here, and then we can start."  
On the laptop he searches for his playlist; various artists, various genres, with a focus on classical pieces of course. Back when Stefano bought this studio he had a company install speakers in the corners of the room hidden from plain sight; meant to be heard, not seen. It undoubtedly added a certain atmospheric touch and depending on the music, helped set the mood for whichever topic the ongoing session primarily focused on. The list started with Adam Hurst playing: no vocals, only violins.

  "Come over here, Ava, please. It's time we do your make-up," distantly Stefano wonders how far they're able to come today with how slow things progressed, "I have not used any of those supplies in quite some time, and I fear I've become somewhat rusty." It is not that he minded things to take longer. He wasn't on a schedule.  
  "Don't worry, Stefano. If it doesn't work out like we imagined, I'll just... do it myself." She talked with such a sunny demeanor that it was hard to dwell on the fact that Stefano hasn't worked in a while. Worries were simply... blown away. As a response a nod was given before the man gestured for Ava to sit down on the chair in front of another one for himself, next to them a low table filled with make-up supplies, hairbrushes and nail polish as well. She sits down looking at him encouragingly, trusting. No other person had given Stefano such a pure gaze before: it felt so good.  
  "So, what is it you have in mind? A natural look? The vampire? ...Ghost maiden?" Ava acted innocently as she asked, but by now he knows she's having her fun messing around with him a bit. Eventually he'll think of a good remark until this day was over to leave her as speechless as Stefano so often was around her.  
  "Anemic goth girl coming right up." One hand's reaching for a tube of pure white foundation, only inches apart --- she grabs it before Stefano can, putting the tube as far away as possible.  
  "Stefano, please! Oh God, don't make me a vampire. Next I know you'll be putting glitter on my nose."  
  "Hm, I wonder where I put the glitter again..." He notices both her hands rose ever so slightly as if she's admitting her defeat, but they lower as quickly as Ava hoped he hasn't seen the gesture. "Do what you want, but when I notice you so much as try to put glitter on me, I'll--"  
  "Oh? Then what?"  
  "You didn't let me finish."  
  "You weren't done?"  
  "Stop interrupting! It is super important I tell you what I'll do then, just... let me think of something first." He couldn't help to laugh quietly, head shaking playfully dismissing the topic. "I'm eagerly awaiting your response, then."  
  "You can act as you please now, Stefano."  
So he will. Picks up a sponge to apply foundation first, after that the tube with a not-so-gothic color as not to raise her pretended anger. In all honesty Stefano hadn't thought this far, to the situation of coming that close to her, touching her face while his own wasn't too far away. Her words repeated themselves inside his head, act as you please, and with a slightly shaking hand applying the cream, Stefano desperately wished he was able to. Ava's eyes were closed while Stefano applied the cream, carefully so, fingers tingling each time they touched her skin. Soon came the second layer, powder to prevent the skin from appearing oily.  
  "Well? Have you thought of something by now?"  
  "Once I find out what'll leave you devastated you can ask me again."  
  "Unbelievable how you can keep a straight face trying to figure out my clearly non-existence weaknesses!" Stefano worked on her jawline when she looked at him with a certain spark in her eyes that made him forget how to breathe.  
  "Everyone has their weaknesses," she whispers solemnly, "Yours may just be your very expensive bathrobe, so wait for me asking to wear it."

  "My apologies, but why keep it when my initials are on it? Don't you know people would ask embarrassing questions concerning it?"  
  "Then I will say S.V. stands for 'super valuable' and it wouldn't even be a lie."  
  "Thank you so much for the compliment!" He's grinning wide, bathing in his victory for now.  
  "...Super vain."  
  "That struck a nerve." With the sponge Stefano pokes her nose before putting it back down on the table, earning a surprised expression in return: brown eyes wide open focused on him. Big disbelief.  
  "I sure hope it did! You're done already..?"  
  "The foundation is. I'll continue with your lips so I have an excuse to tell you not to talk for a little while."  
  "Oh no, that's so well thought out, so cruel. I can't even finish my coffee then..."  
  "Do not worry. I pay the next one." It did not take Stefano long to pick a lipstick. The choice fell on a dark matte red, though first came the outlines.  
  "Let me say one last thing!"  
  "Shhh." Their gazes locked for seconds straight. His hands did not move, he hadn't begun yet. Her lips are slightly parted, she waits for Stefano to pick up the pencil, but it doesn't seem Ava would become impatient if he remained like this admiring the sight. _Just her. Near._  
  Half a minute it took the artist to snap out of it, frantically his hand reaches for the pencil to outline her lips, excited to feel them underneath his fingertips... as soon as he removed the cap and began drawing the shaking of his hand stopped, he focused on the task rather than the feeling it stirred inside him, the undeniable lust sending shivers up and down his spine distracting for sure without causing Stefano to interrupt his work. Trying to act professional in the situation he found himself in, put himself in knowingly, proved not as difficult as the man expected; for how long composure would last he couldn't foresee. Intentionally his thumb gently slid above her lower lip, under the disguise of having better access to the corners of her mouth---he knows Ava wouldn't believe if he tried explaining it so he does not try to, rather so remains as silent as he told her to be. Lipstick he then added using a tiny brush and was glad upon finishing to paint her lips.

  "Done," he proclaims with a short smile, "Granted permission to speak again."  
  "Why, thank you, I quite enjoyed the silence now. I really like your music." It was as if this... moment earlier hadn't happened at all. Stefano muses he must have been the only one to notice it as a moment and honestly, it was disheartening. Was she messing around? Did she simply not... see it? Felt it not?  
  "Let us enjoy it, then." Stefano fell silent and did not ask what she wanted for her eyes, decided for himself what suits her best picking up liquid eyeliner wordlessly. Ava closes her eyes, exhaled before leaning back in her chair, forcing Stefano to come closer in return. He did so not commenting about it, not uncomfortable nor feeling inconvenienced: took it as a sign of trust instead.  
  Thin black lines he draws on her eyelids, painting little wings and first experiments with the thickness of them, adding layer over layer before he was satisfied. Having chosen grey eyeshadow to blend in with black he finishes the next step too, quietly so, concentrating. Speaking the following words he noticed his mouth had become dry, his voice sounded no more confident but distant, wavering.  
  "Look at me."  
Ava opened her eyes and for the first time Stefano saw that fire burning within them, dark and soothing, dangerous and thrilling all the same, the colors he had chosen fit so well he wouldn't have dreamed of a result so breathtaking. "Perfect," he mouths, almost inaudible, but Ava smiles at it still, "Almost finished." 

Inspiration reached its peak by now that he applied mascara, followed by a last thin line underneath her eyes connecting to the wings he drew.The last Stefano works on are here brows. Not very spectacular, he keeps them lighter, no more color added, none needed; if anything a little shaping was enough.  
  They still haven't spoken to each other and the music seemed to have disappeared into the background, a fading noise barely heard by Stefano at least. Mind occupied with guilt for shutting Ava down, he has yet to think of a way of saving the situation for both of them. Whether it was pride or embarrassment that bound his tongue he was barely able to tell, pretended to be absorbed with work no longer announcing his next step, Stefano only expected her to know what he is going to do next. The last and final step are her nails; they're long, rounded and colorless: for now. Surely she wouldn't have something against simple black polish, so it was what Stefano picked. Just like him she didn't ask and didn't propose a different color either, rather so Stefano felt she watched him closely. Could feel Ava's gaze resting on his face, soon his fingers painting her nails.  
  The shivers had become more... violent. For the time being they didn't affect the muscles of his digits but those of his back, his thighs, abdomen.  
  "Stefano?"  
  "Hmh?"  
  "We should have a cigarette."  
  "How do you know I'm a smoker...?"  
  "Because your fingers smelled of smoke. It didn't bother me, so don't worry." His cheeks flushed lightly and he averts her gaze much too embarrassed to give an apology or explain why he didn't wash them properly beforehand. Stefano nodded, though, before standing up leading the way to the balcony. She followed shortly behind him. To think how on ease he felt not even an hour ago... it was sad. Worse so because he did this to himself.  
  "I don't want to ruin the polish, so could you help..? The cigarettes are in my pocket." Stefano closed the balcony's door first, turned around and without much hesitation reached into the pocket of her jeans she pointed at, opened the package and handed Ava a cigarette. He took one from his own, lights her cigarette and then his. The first blow felt like coming down from a terrible high.  
  The sun shone down on them, warming cold skin and stiff hands, promising a day without rain but blue skies. The artist watched the traffic underneath the balcony, from this height it all looked so small, insignificant.  
  "Hey, can I ask you something?" She spoke barely loud enough for Stefano to hear her properly, and the only answer she receives is a weak nod.  
  "What happened? Did I do anything wrong?"  
  "Why do you think so? Nothing happened, nothing at all. I told you I might be rusty after so long."  
  "That wasn't it and you know this. You didn't mess up a single time doing my make-up, so quit telling me--"  
  "You aren't in any position to tell me what I can and can not do, and surely you do not have the right to pretend you know more about me or my situation." The fire that ignites inside his chest is of anger, of feeling humiliated and misunderstood. Feeling called out and vulnerable. 

  Nobody said it was easy.

  "Okay. Fine, I'll just..." Ava threw her half-finished cigarette down the balcony, turns around and opens the door to go back inside; Stefano felt like burning on the inside watching her, the ashes of his cigarette crumbling down on the floor. That tiny, fucking stubborn part of his brain thought she meant to go inside to get dressed, surely the polish had dried, they could start---  
  "I changed my mind about this. I'm going to pay you for the time you wasted on all that," she sounds so cold, doesn't even look at him, "I will pack my things..."  
  Panic. Cold, ugly, painful panic.  
  "No---" Stefano heard his heart beating, heard his pulse, felt it thumping so harshly, so incredibly fast---  
  "Ava, no--"  
  "Fuck, I just... tried to help. This was strictly business, and _you_ acted professional unlike me," he stood paralyzed listening to her talk more to herself than to him while she threw the clothes into her bag, mindlessly so, "I don't want to waste your time, Mr. Valentini."  
  "No." Could she... even hear him? "Don't go." _Don't leave me alone, please._ He forced his body to move forward, only saw her open the door out to the hallway and he loses it. **"NO!"** Desperate, panicking but worse than anything, _furious_ Stefano was perplexed to hear himself yell at her, more so seeing her turn around staring at him like he was out of his mind, scared of him, of him raising his voice.  
  " _Excuse me?_ You cannot keep me here. And you'll get your money."  
  "I... I don't- **care** about the money, I..." _I care about you, I don't want you to leave, I don't want to see you go knowing you won't come back, knowing I ruined this...._ "Don't go, I..." Stefano tries to find words to diffuse this unbearable tension, to erase the fear from her eyes, to see her smile again, he would do anything if it meant she'd stay with him, whatever it meant to see her happy...  
  "You what? What were you thinking? You could let your bad mood out on me without consequences? I was seriously worried about you, but maybe you don't need _me_ to talk to." Fire in her eyes, cold, fierce, dangerous.  
  "Goodbye, Mr. Valentini." 

Something inside him was shattering into countless pieces when Ava turned around walking away from him, out of his reach and barely, as hard it was to restrain himself, Stefano resisted the nasty urge to hold on to her forcefully before she was too far away. He stood stricken, hot tears dwelling up in his eye while his anger arose, too --- he slammed the door shut after going back inside, yelled at himself.  
  "What have you _**DONE!?**_ " This couldn't have happened. This was a dream. Another nightmare. He just forgot his pills again, it's fine, it's okay, he will wake up soon, and... everything will be fixed.  
  "Wake up, wake up..."  
He took too much pride in himself, too full of himself and so very afraid of showing weakness that Stefano shut her out, kicked her away from him without ever getting the chance to explain why he acted like he did, without being able to find **WORDS** at all, loaded with regrets and ice-cold despair to the brim that, no, his brain wasn't able to form words that _wouldn't_ lead any normal human being to think he was insane, not in need of help in the first place.  
The tears wouldn't stop falling. He doesn't make any effort to stop them, either. Just cries, curses himself, begs himself to finally wake up.

  Nobody said it would be this hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some serious foreshadowing in this chapter and I wonder if you can find it.


	10. Keep Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't fiction. It's reality.

A pit formed in the man's stomach and he was unable to tell if he was hungry after spending the night sleepless in the studio or if it was the devastation of having lost his muse. Stefano waited all night for a call, stupidly clinging to childish hope that somehow she figured out it wasn't Stefano making a grave mistake but blaming it on herself overreacting; while Stefano did not think her behaviour was uncalled for nor inappropriate considering he did raise his voice, and he did act upon creeping despair showing it's repulsing face, Stefano distantly wished for her to take the first step and apologize for leaving like that. Only false vanity kept the artist from calling Ava. Only the wish to see her coming back to him by herself so he would not have to feel like pressuring her - it was uneasiness he saw looking at her earlier, listening to her like her voice came from deep underwater. _You cannot keep me here._ Repeatedly Stefano heard those words, shaming him, mocking, vastly hurtful.  
  He had spent the night aimlessly wandering around the studio after he somewhat calmed himself down, drank his cold coffee and smoked the whole package of cigarettes he brought. That much he hasn't smoked before, and the results were immediate, so cruel how his pulse rose steadily while breathing hurt and came more and more difficult to him.   
  All he can do is keep breathing.

She's in his veins and he can't get her out, occupied by her words, the way she moved, the way she laughed and smiled and looked at him, Stefano only left with his imagination and fantasies of Ava posing before his lense, holding onto him between change of clothes and taking photos while he went over them on the camera. He let the chance to see it all happen slip right through his fingers, no, rather so forced the ideal dream to burst like a bubble. Fragile. The issues he had containing himself and his anger, the pride he wrapped himself up with never minding the consequence, it ultimately lead to Stefano losing something new, something so important to him. Was it a matter of time..? What if this would have happened in the end anyway, wouldn't it have hurt more than now..? What if there is a way to repair it?  
  First... Stefano needs to try fixing himself.

Stefano went home without cleaning up the studio, turned off the lights and turned his back to the door after locking it. Zero motivation to take care of it, as he had more pressuring matters to tend to: calling his therapist to ask for help as soon as possible. The way back faded to nothingness, Stefano sunken in thoughts without paying much attention to the world surrounding him. No longer he felt frantic and not numb either, in fact it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what Stefano felt like.   
  Calling his doctor should not be as hard as the first time he did so, but today he would have to ask for an extra session unsure if this was... allowed at all. Then Stefano has to tell a stranger what he felt yesterday and last night, the day before that and everything that crossed his mind since meeting Ava for the first time, all that happened...   
  That's what therapy meant, though.  
  If he truly wanted to change something, therapy was necessary.  
  Once home Stefano made the phone call no further thought wasted. The couple seconds he had to wait for Doctor Victoriano to pick up felt like an eternity spent in anxiety...

  "Mr. Valentini?"  
  "Yes, I... I do apologise for disturbing you, Doctor, but I need to talk to you, much rather face to face. I cannot find another way to handle my current situation properly. I..." The doctor waits until he finishes, but no more words would come. Stefano hears a shuffling on the phone, a sigh the doctor thought no one could hear.  
  "I figure the appointment we have made then will be too late for you? This is not an issue for me I assure you, when you need to talk then I can give you an hour in my office if you have the time _right now._ There's other patients I expect later this day."  
  "Thank you. I'll be on my way." Pulse had picked up waiting for the doctor to decline Stefano's request, now it steadily decreases until the man was freed of anxiety. Making phone calls never bothered him before! He always sounded confident on the phone, voice not shaky, not at loss for words.  
  There is too much going on in his life for Stefano to be able to handle it calmly or beaming with fortitude. Those days were long gone and dead.

The artist kept checking his phone while he was on the way to Beacon, every time hoping he missed a call or had a message from her --- not a single one of his hopes came true. A quiet voice inside his head mocks him for holding onto that juvenile behaviour whenever Stefano put the phone back into his pocket. No matter how he looked at it, none of what was happening felt real to him, still he waits to finally wake up, or for the dream to shift into another, more pleasant direction. 

  All he can do is keep breathing.

The thought of going back hasn't occurred to Stefano until he actually stood in front of the door to his therapist's office; the suspicion of threat hit him like a wave alike the first time he stood here. Unlike back then, though, Stefano did not hesitate long to knock and enter. Diving into his own emotions was threatening to him, of course. He had to be weak in front of this man, and Stefano felt exposed completely. 

But he keeps breathing. Put under a false sense of calm.

  "You look horrible," Ruben said emotionless, "Have you slept?"  
  "Is this some sort of shock therapy? I haven't looked in a mirror is all--- I literally just arrived---"  
  "You're avoiding. _Have_ you slept last night?" The doctor was so unfazed by what Stefano had to say and the artist regretted to have come, honestly, he wanted out----  
  "I _haven't_ , and after all that _is_ why I came here seeking your help instead of judgement." This hurt, he won't lie.   
  "Are you feeling agitated? Did I anger you?"  
  " _You did!_ "   
Stefano couldn't bring himself to breathe properly, tried to force steadiness but in its place there was a turmoil raging within his chest so vicious that every breath stung horribly. He gets up, wants to leave this so called Doctor for good and never return---  
  "Good. We can talk now. You're allowed to let it all out while you are here, I do not mind. You wanted my help. You will get it." 

_What is he thinking!?_

  "Why is it that everyone who sees me thinks they have allowance to judge me!? Do I give off that certain ' _come on and hurt me!'_ -vibe without knowing? I have not come here for you to analyse me or how I look, I want you to help me because this is what I pay for, I need--- I need..." Ruben has not interrupted him. Allowed Stefano to scream at him without having to fear payback. The cassette recorder already turned on, Ruben simply listened and waited until asking questions, or revealing to the other man what this was all about.  
  "I need something... Something to hold on to, _no no no,_ someone to hold onto without me being scared of getting hurt or hurting them with anything I do because as it turns out I am the one causing everything bad that ever happened in my life!" Stefano looks straight into the doctor's eyes but sees not a single emotion, could not possibly tell if he understood or if he thought of a way to help Stefano _or_ why he still stood there breathing heavily, yelling about the cruelty of this world. Bandages hiding obvious scars on Doctor Victoriano's face coming to attention now that both men were silent and Stefano wonders whom of them got played worse by destiny.

  "Allow me to ask you a question, will you?" Ruben spoke tacitly.   
  "Go ahead."  
  "Why did you come here?"  
  "Because I..." Guilt seeps in for letting rage get the best of him, and Stefano lowers the tone of his voice in shame, "I have nowhere else to go, no one else to talk to."  
  "Did you feel good while letting out a portion of your anger at me? Or is it remorse you feel?"  
  "I'm not... sure. But as of now? It's definitely remorse I'm feeling."  
  "Do you happen to know how anyone else that did not give you permission to yell at them will feel?"  
Stefano does not say anything. Does not think anything. Empty, drained and exhausted he felt, but not like yelling helped him feel better. What was the point...?  
  "They will fear you, and fear does horrible things to a human's mind. What are you capable of doing besides screaming? You put yourself above everyone else, in a position of power that they will be afraid of and when you are done yelling but did not achieve your goal, what measures would you take to do so? You do not give them a reason not to be afraid of you, and do you think they wouldn't rather escape the situation? Escape from you?"  
  Stefano inhales, shaking with every fiber of his being. This man summoned such a sinister feeling hanging above Stefano like a dark cloud sinking slowly, threatening to obscure him whole. He remembers the way Ava looked at him, the cold fire in her eyes wasn't of determination but of _**fright.**_

  "You have come here to seek my help and indirectly asked me to analyse you the very moment you agreed to this therapy. I mean no malice. I mean no harm. You have no reason to feel this way, that I can assure you." Where the Doctor acted so stern and let not a single emotion rest visible on his face, this very moment Stefano saw something akin to empathy. No pity. No judgement.   
  _Understanding._

  "I can't help this feeling, though. I expect anyone to turn on me or do me harm in whichever way they can once I show how... vulnerable I feel. Except... except her, and still I was so caught up in those emotions that I lost composure and with it the trust I had placed in her."  
  "Who is _she?_ "  
  "The-- the model I've met a couple days ago. She reached out to me, wanted to work with me and showed interest in not only my creations but myself as a person. It was a wonderful feeling to be appreciated, but not only this, I... I allowed myself to become attached so quickly, caught off guard by the feelings she stirred in me. I didn't make an effort to stop it. I wanted her, and I still do." The dream Stefano would not mention as well as the undeniable lust he felt for her. Too personal. Too embarrassing.

  "But then? What happened?"  
  "We met yesterday for the planned session, and it went so well at first! I was happy to be around her, excited to work again and talking with her was as easy as breathing. I cannot remember the last time someone managed to make me feel like she did, and although I had no reason to, I cut off her attempt to try and make me talk about what... bothered me. I raised my voice and she wanted to leave so I--- yelled at her not to go. What I actually wanted to say I kept for myself; which I regret now; instead I panicked and eventually she left telling me she was sorry for wasting my time." Talking about it made his stomach revolt against the memories of her words, of her expression and distress. Stefano lowered his gaze down to stare at his hands clenched tight to fists, the knuckles turned white.

  "What bothered you in the first place? Was it something she did or something you have done?"  
  "I have-... I was only-... Frustrated," the last word Stefano only whispered, "We had a moment, there was... _tension_ between us I thought, but I might have only made her uncomfortable."  
  "You talk about sexual tension."  
  "Yes. That... seemed so obvious to me. I refused making an attempt trying to understand why she did not feel what I felt."  
  "Instead of becoming angry at her noticing and asking about it, this could have been your chance to explain what you thought. We wouldn't have this conversation if you had admitted to it."  
  "I can't do that! I can't possibly know how she might react! I would feel humiliated telling her and learning that she doesn't experience the same, or-- when she-- If she thinks I'm disgusting for having such urges and thoughts."  
  "Are you certain of what she may say? You've known her for a couple days, yes? You can't tell how she reacts. This isn't the situation to mention 'human decency' or having a good insight into human nature. You are _adults_. She either wants it or she doesn't, and you won't know if you do not dare _ask_."  
  "That's exactly the point, I have only known her for a few days, we were simply supposed to work on her portfolio and all I initially wanted was to find my way back to art!"  
  "Haven't you heard of one-night-stands?"

This isn't what Stefano wants though. Ruben's question wasn't seen as a snarky remark by Stefano, only as mockery.  
  "I don't want something like this. You don't see my problem! I want her by my side for more than just sex."  
  "I heard of two people starting to date when they've first met on a train," Ruben mentions like he was telling gossip, "They married."  
Stefano sinks lower, leaning back in his chair and covers his face with both his hands. He just can't with this doctor. Although not a single word Ruben said was... spoken without significance. Stefano starts to think about it all properly: they're adults, they can talk about it, they can figure out where to go from here and if Ava did not feel like Stefano, then... He... doesn't know what to do then. Surely he cannot know if he does not try.

  "You know how people feel when you yell at them and you figured out how it feels to leave them in the dark about both your intentions and feelings. Plus, you figured out you're an adult. Do tell me, what is it you want to do with that knowledge?"  
  "Change. However that will work for me. But since I'm an adult with good connection to a doctor like you, what can possibly go wrong?" The first time since yesterday Stefano smiles, although it felt like a weak attempt only.  
  "...good comeback. Thank you for reaching out to me when you truly needed to. After our first session, it wasn't clear to me that you would consider it. Keep in mind that I am here to help and support you. Even though I am not quite the expert when it comes to romantic relationships, I deem it important to tell you that you can not force anyone to stay at your side if they simply don't want to. Though that is common sense."  
  "I... know. Thank you. For seeing me today." There was more Stefano could thank him for, but felt that it would drag on beyond their promised hour and he doesn't want to keep Doctor Victoriano occupied much longer. Stefano feels... better. Breathing comes easy to him, no more it stings, no more he was bothered by a knot in his stomach.  
  All he had to do was to keep breathing. 

  He should reach out to Ava, but in this very minute he had no clue how to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a playlist on spotify and YouTube for this fanfiction! You can find the links to both on my tumblr @victorianoruben.


	11. Hush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano tries to calm his mind. A phone call makes a mess out of him again.

Many things happened over the course of just three days. The start of this week has been hectic and probably the most stressful Stefano has ever witnessed, but despite all this also had him feel that there was a purpose for him on this world and people that were willing to help him overcome hardships. Ava did not escape his mind like she did the studio, and now, back in his apartment, Stefano feels content about that fact. If he found no way to make it work again, then who will? Talking to his therapist, strange comments from the doctor left aside, helped him come to terms with both his issues and strengths: Stefano realized his flaws where he hadn't seen them as possible to fix before, found out that being quiet about his emotions helped no one in the long run. Appearing weak in front of someone he trusted from the start cannot be a bad thing, nor was talking about how he felt on the inside. He had to figure out a way to handle his anger properly, will have to learn to recognize it before it can grow into something violent. But did he have to do all of this alone..?  
  Out of cigarettes and incredibly hungry Stefano stopped by the store to buy a few groceries and stock up on cigs before he went home. Smoking was probably a habit he should discard too. At least reduce how much he smoked over the day, because seventeen cigarettes in a single night was... undoubtedly an insane amount. No matter the circumstances he was under, Stefano should take better care of his health.

Since he left the hospital his phone has been kept inside his pocket without Stefano checking it once. Faintly of course he caught himself thinking about pulling it out for just a quick glance--- but he never did. Once he was calm and figured out how to handle the situation, there was enough time to call Ava or send her a message. First he had to eat something and, _shame on him_ , smoke a cigarette. Just a single one! 

  While munching on a quickly thrown together sandwich, his mind kept going back to the conversation with Doctor Victoriano. _You're an adult_ , and _they will fear you._ He never wanted to be feared. Never meant to intimidate. But how often did it happen without Stefano realizing it, how often did he use his voice as a weapon..? Countless times he expressed his anger at previous models for dropping him, cursed critics and their authors in public and never once stopped to think about the impact he has had on every single individual, no matter how wronged he felt by them. Pushing the experiences from the war and the scar he got out of it to fill the hole as an excuse for this behaviour wasn't going to work: Stefano has _always_ been like that.  
  A lot of things he had to unravel about himself, many more waiting to be told to his therapist to eventually find a solution, a way of helping Stefano come to terms with flaws he thought were such a vital part of his personality that he never saw them negatively.  
  He wipes away the crumbles from his shirt before laying down on the couch, legs stretched out and face down.  
  "This is fine..."

He must have fallen asleep, because when Stefano opened his eye the room was pitch black and no sound could be heard from the streets outside of the house. Confused Stefano wipes sweat from his forehead, noticed the shirt sticking to his chest. Did he dream...? At least now he can be sure he was not stuck in one, and strangely, he found comfort in that. Unsure if he was able to handle dreams as violent as reality, Stefano pulls himself off the couch to sit up for a few minutes regaining full consciousness.  
  He did not remember what he dreamt, if he dreamt at all, deemed it for the better on one hand yet on the other he recalled memories of erotic dreams and wished for one of those to come next time he went to sleep. Though, critically thinking... Stefano cannot ignore to take his medication. Those pills were prescribed to him purposely to rid him of nightmares, but not dreaming at all was a whole different experience. 

  The man rose to switch on the ceiling light, had yet to get adjusted to the brightness again; wiping the sleep from his eye he proceeded to fetch himself a glass of water with the right hand, drinking it up in one go, fixing a second and even a third one. Glance fell on the half-empty bottle of wine standing there on the counter. For a good long minute he contemplates...  
  "Bad idea." _Very bad_. He actually felt serene for the first time in days, took in the silence of the night and at ease knowing that at this hour no one expected anything from him.  
Time passed by slowly, clock ticking away minute after minute as he stood, empty glass in hand, leaning against the counter in his kitchen. He didn't notice the vibrations of his phone until that odd buzzing inside the pocket of his pants annoyed him--- After putting down the glass Stefano walked back into the living room pulling the phone out, unlocking it.

_[ 3 missed calls, 6 new messages ]_

Stefano's heart skipped a beat reading who tried to call him. He missed these calls from her because he was sleeping for so long... Ava probably thinks Stefano ignores her on purpose--- and how should he explain---   
No, those thoughts aren't allowed anymore. No more _what if_ , no more _how to_ and never again _trying_ to explain. _**You're both adults.**_ And so, instead of feeling sorry for missing those calls Stefano opens the messages she sent him taking a deep breath.

_[msg received 08:43p.m. > Ava W.] I wanted to place the payment, but you haven't sent me the details to your bank account yet._

_[msg received 08:46p.m. > Ava W.] That message was me asking you to send them now._

_[msg received 08:58p.m. > Ava W.] You don't want the money, I know, you told me, but you could at least answer..._

_[msg received 09:12p.m. > Ava W.] Please? _

_[msg received 09:31p.m. > Ava W.] I gave up calling you for the details. Ignoring my calls doesn't solve the issue for me but it seems to work just fine for you. _

_[msg received 11:21p.m. > Ava W.] Stefano, I'm sorry._

He stared at her last message and slowly, ever so slowly, Stefano felt his heart break in two. Trying to type a reply with shaking hands he gives up after the first weak attempt hitting the wrong letters, deleting them to try anew with even lesser success.  
  His insides burnt. Fiercely, painfully, flames lapped at his heart and lungs and stomach igniting a new sort of discomfort he hasn't experienced before. Uncertain he was who he wanted to blame for all of this: himself because he could not contain his anger and confused Ava worrying for him as her trying to hurt his feelings, or at her because she left with the only concern she had being some damned money. 

  No... no! 

  The answer was so obvious. She needn't apologise. She was not to blame.

   _"Do you happen to know how anyone else that did not give you permission to yell at them will feel?"_

_[msg sent 11:58p.m. < Ava W.] I never wanted to put you in a situation like yesterday's. It is not you who needs to apologise._

Stefano had to delete the message a couple of times, re-wrote it and in the end he still hasn't felt satisfied, rather would have called her. Midnight wasn't exactly the best time to call anyone he figured.

  No minute after sending that message the phone buzzed in his hand. _Incoming call._ He did not even read, hit the green button almost instantly.

  "Stefano..?"  
  " _Ava."_  
  "Can I come over?"  
His mouth was dry again. Words were forced through a sore throat and over quivering lips. For his answer Stefano doesn't need to think.  
  "Please be careful on the way." A sob he hears, afterwards a sharp inhale and breathlessly she spoke "I'm not home so it's not as far but I would like to stay on the phone with you until then..."  
  "Okay, of course, just... take a minute for yourself. You don't sound good at all, Ava, do you need me to pick you up? Where-"  
  "No, no, it's fine, please, stay. I'm on my way."  
  "I can't believe..." Stefano falls back onto the couch, the phone pressed to his ear with one hand while the other frantically wiped tiny hot tears from his eye. She nervously laughs at the other end of the line and he thinks she sounded like crying, too.  
  "That I called you? To be honest? I can't either, I...just... I wanted to..." Stefano didn't interrupt her, needn't say a word. But Ava stopped talking to him now, only her frantic breathing Stefano heard, the howling wind and shouts from the streets around.  
  "Be careful." He gets up walking towards the window; it was too dark to see, that single lantern on the street doing a terrible job.  
  "Nothing ever happens in this city," she replied, "The grass is green and the girls are pretty."

With one hand to his chest Stefano feels for his heartbeat. Strong and quick. Delighted, nervous and a little afraid as well knowing she'd be here with him soon--- when before Stefano was able to calm down, he quickly became a mess once again now.  
  The doorbell rang startling him no matter if he had expected it. Quickly he got to the door, hand on the knob hesitating for a few seconds though, wondering if... if he was able to handle this.  
  "It's... getting cold, would you please open up?" Putting the phone aside not minding to end the call Stefano opens the door to let her in. Ava looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears, puffy and red from crying, the make-up he put on her face smudged...

  "Come, let's---" Stefano did not get to finish the sentence. She came close to him, her arms tightly curled around his middle, face pressed against his chest. His arms too rose to hold her, one hand buried in crimson curls, the other on the woman's back, not a sign of hesitation showing as Stefano pulled her even closer. He could feel her heartbeat underneath his own, racing just as his, stumbling ever so often when she sobbed quietly and her shoulders shook with them. _Why are you crying_ he wanted to ask, _you shouldn't have to cry at all.._  
But they stood together in this moment where  words are absolutely unnecessary. They will wait this storm out, sheltered in each other's embrace.  
  Her sobs slowly subsided, stopped to shake her body and when Stefano laid his chin on top of her head Ava only took another step in his direction. No efforts were made on either side to change the position they were in, her grasp on him as strong as before refusing to let go---Stefano didn't mind it.

  "I'm sorry," she turned her head to the side speaking in a hushed voice, a little raspy she sounded, "I've been childish."  
  "You haven't. I had not a single reason to yell at you to begin with. Ava, I am so very sorry for this." Her nails dug into his shirt, tugging but lightly so. He continues to speak while his fingers run through her hair soothingly. "I was devastated seeing you leave without realizing my mistake right away. I wasn't... thinking clearly." Her fingers began to caress his back, painting invisible lines and he could feel his skin tingling underneath her hands.  
  "Don't do it again," she spoke with a soft voice, "Please."  
Stefano touched her shoulders to gently release their embrace, looks into her teary eyes, cups her cheeks to wipe some of those tears away with his thumbs. He shakes his head. "I am trying so hard to be a better person, believe me..." Ava put her hands above his. Held them in place and closed her eyes, exhaling.  
  "I do. I do. Let me help you and don't...shut me out, I beg you. You mean something to me, Stefano." Slowly she let go of him, brought a distance between their bodies that made him feel a little colder, but no less content as before when Stefano held her. "Ugh, I've ruined your clothes." Perplexed he looks down, found dark stains on his shirt and that, well, at least she wouldn't have to spend as long getting the make-up off her face now with a good portion of it already on _him._  
  "I'm sure this'll come off, don't mind it. I'll bring you to the bathroom so you can wash the make-up from your face before it burns in your eyes."

Stefano changed clothes while Ava cleaned her face; he kept thinking about why she had it on after a whole day and night hoping that she hasn't suffered as badly as he did, restless and anxious... he wasn't sure if he should ask her about it or better not remind her.  
  She sat on the couch once Stefano came out of his bedroom with a blanket in his hands, and offered it to her before sitting down as well. "Not as elegant as a bathrobe, I suppose."  
  She smiled at him. It wasn't bright and radiant as usual, but... beautiful nonetheless.  
  "It's perfectly fine, Stefano. Thank you." The crying must have left her cold. She was shaking while putting the fabric around her shoulders, tightening it in front of her. "Can I ask you now what was wrong back then? I do understand that maybe you don't want to talk about it if that makes you uncomfortable, I only... want to know if I did something wrong, or said something to hurt you."  
  "I wanted to talk about it with you, but I have not been able to figure out how to begin. Yesterday I have felt... offended by what you said to me. You were right, of course! The issues weren't caused by me being afraid to mess up the make-up. I felt that... we had a moment. But you... you... didn't seem to grasp it. And I made you feel unwell in the process without thinking twice about doing so."  
  "Except the moment I left, you've never made me feel uncomfortable. Tell me what... _moment_ you mean." 

He needed to take a break sorting out his thoughts, to quieten his mind before words would spill uncontrollably or he might regret it. Stefano started to feel awkwardly warm again, internally trembling. "It..."

  "Come on," Ava says standing up, gathering the rest of her blanket in her hands, "Let's have a cigarette." Stefano did not answer, followed her out on the balcony instead truly relieved if he was honest.  
  This shouldn't be so hard. _Just say it._ You're a grown man.  
  She already had a cigarette lighted for him, handed it over looking at Stefano with a tender expression. "Thank you."  
They didn't talk this time. Simply stood next to each other smoking their cigarettes and enjoying the silence.

  "Tell me now, Stefano." Back inside, Ava cuddled herself inside the blanket almost completely.  
  "Before I outlined your lips, Ava. I looked at you, did not move an inch and you looked at me the same. When I touched you, then, it seemed to simply pass by which made me feel... disappointed and frustrated. You would notice me trembling and on the balcony I was so scared you wanted to confront me with it because there was no way you haven't noticed by then why I acted like I did." _Don't make me say it._  
  "Of course I noticed it," she begins, " _Of course_ I felt it. What I didn't want to do was jump to conclusions that quickly or ruining what built up between us."  
  "I can't...understand. Why then haven't you...--if you felt it too, why leave without telling me how big of an idiot I was being?"  
  "Because as soon as you raised your voice I was afraid of you and nothing else mattered to me, because me trying to let you know that I'm not oblivious or blind did eventually lead to you being defensive about the matter. I know how men are. Many of them however, and the last thing I wanted was to put you in the same place as they were. I still don't want to, Stefano. I haven't known you for so long, I am in no position to judge you, believe me, this is not what I wanted to do yesterday. I got scared---"  
  "I am so sorry, Ava, I... Shouldn't have done any of those things."  
  "No... no, you shouldn't have, but you did. It happened. We can't change the fact that it did, but I thought, after leaving, that I couldn't stand myself for going away from you when it was obvious what your motives were. Though, you see, I'm stubborn and proud and very, very dumb, beat myself up over it all hoping you would just _freaking_ call me or sent a message. When you didn't... I acted strong and tried to shut down that voice telling me to reach out to you. Going back and forth between ' _I don't need you in my life'_ and ' _I absolutely do because whatever there is between us, it's exciting and new and how stupid must I be for letting go of it'_ was exhausting and got me nowhere in fact. What if you hadn't answered my messages..? Do you think I would have showed up at your doorstep one day..? ...I probably would have, though. But it wouldn't have been easy. Things like this never are. All those feelings just... they just kept me awake, they made me think the worst shit about myself, about you, us, and when I... When I called, waiting for naught for you picking up, it became unbearable. I'm not as strong as my first five messages were supposed to make me appear to be. I didn't want to let go of you, no matter what you had done."  
Over the whole time she talked, Stefano listened to the way her voice changed every then and now. Noticed how she would lower her voice talking about herself, her flaws, and how she smiled ever so subtly saying that, whatever there is between them, is exciting. She tends to fidget the blanket between her fingers, talks fast when upset and averts her gaze when talking about him. 

  _Whatever there is between us, it's exciting and new._  
Stefano inhales and begins to talk, words coming to him as easy as never before.  
  "Can you even imagine what I felt trying to figure out how to reach out to you, well knowing I will have to explain my behaviour, my inappropriate reaction? I was so ashamed of myself. What did you do to deserve a treatment like this? Anything you did, anything you said had me _captured_ , being around you I felt overwhelmed by my feelings, I could see that you truly were that one person I missed without ever knowing her before. Despite all of this I felt so immature and stupid! You captivated me from the start while I thought this couldn't be possible, there is something wrong feeling so much in so little time. If you knew I--... I have... never _not_ thought of you."  
  "Me neither, Stefano." 

Time stood still.

She moved closer to him, her cold fingers gliding along his neck up to rest at the back of it making Stefano shiver, seeking warmth and comfort he was sure to find if he just got closer to Ava.  
  He looked at her lips and she into his eye, opening her mouth just a little for a whisper.  
  "Kiss me, Stefano."  
His face inches closer to hers until their noses touched softly, Stefano tilted his head slightly and finally, _**finally**_ , pressed his lips onto Ava's no longer needing to contain what he felt. Hands rose to caress her cheeks, thumbs lining her chin, her jaw up then to lay upon her cheeks. Distance she brings between them to look at him, to smile at him before pushing near, lips once more brought together for a kiss.  
  God, he wanted to cry, to cheer at the same time. The kisses felt heavenly and Stefano never had to stop to wonder anymore what it may be like to kiss her lips. 

He pushed his tongue past his lips to feel hers and almost immediately Ava mimicked his action: pushed Stefano's tongue back playfully with her own before gliding it around his. Impatiently Ava pulls Stefano in, broke their kiss to sit on his lap, legs spread and facing him. He's grinning, his hands on her hips pushed her down and further against his body. Ava's face came close to his once more, but not for a kiss to his lips. She'd let her hands wander underneath the man's shirt, felt the muscles of his abdomen and chest tense right underneath her fingertips and the touch sent shivers throughout his entire body. Stefano inhales sharply when her fingers stroked his nipples so teasingly slow, stiffening them. He felt... no longer comfortable wearing tight jeans.  
  She saw his reaction and was quite delighted with it, so she decided to climb down from him---watched as he followed her movement adamant on holding on to her body, but Ava pushed him back down lightly.  
  "Oh... You look bothered, Stefano." No chance she gave him to answer properly, beginning to undress herself distracting enough for him and yes, even more bothering to be sitting here with not much place to move and jeans that felt like two sizes too small.  
Ava lifted her shirt up over her head and let it fall onto the couch next to him, then opened each button of her pants lazily, watching Stefano and how fast his impatience grew. They slid down her legs and to the ground; now she stopped, stood before Stefano in red lingerie that barely covered enough...  
  It's his turn to undress. She didn't even have to ask him to get up and rid himself of these clothes, had watched Stefano's impatience growing for too long. He opened the buttons of his shirt, finding that Ava didn't wait as nicely as he has done; her hands quick to unfasten his belt, to open the top button of Stefano's jeans then without lending him further assistance.  
  She seemed to take more pleasure stroking his bare back causing goosebumps to appear on his skin--- His jeans dropped to the ground, Stefano stepped aside and reached for Ava's hand, gently pulling, leading her towards the bedroom.  
  Ava couldn't keep her hands from him for a split second: caressed his arms, let one hand wander over his backside while the other slid between his legs as soon as they had reached the bedroom and Stefano tried to reach the nightstand. "Only a second, I promise---" In the dim light coming from the streets outside it was difficult for Stefano to see much more than silhouettes, but after aimlessly grabbing around the drawer of his nightstand he was able to find the box of condoms. She wrapped around him from behind, thumbs tucked under the brim of his shorts. Stefano felt her lips ghosting over his back, reaching for his shoulders... "You had your second now," she murmurs before pulling down his underwear, "Won't you turn around?"  
  Ava let go of him, climbed on the bed to lay down, then took off her slip while Stefano watched in anticipation. Legs spread, two of her fingers slowly wandered between them to rub her clit.  
  
  "Fuck me, Mr. Valentini."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fuck me, Mr. Valentini" has such a strong energy. Stay tuned for more ;3


	12. Lips Like Morphine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blow a kiss that leaves me gasping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's just shameless smut for your entertainment. i left you some tissues on the table ;3

A soft nature lays within each touch of fingertips upon his skin, whether they dance lightly, barely in contact, or traced tensing muscles with sweet curiosity. Rough he enjoyed them to be as well, feeling nails dig into flesh, pushing impatiently with the lustful intention of causing much needed friction. Each of it over a span of mere minutes Stefano witnessed with Ava laying underneath him, her body trembling from touches meant to tease before they stimulated or brought satisfaction. Lips placed lovely kisses along her neck where Stefano felt her pulse thumping and where muscles twitched. She reached to find Stefano's left hand as long he seemed preoccupied tasting her skin, desperate neediness driving her to guide his hand further down below--- a bite to her earlobe was his reaction to that, not meaning to hurt of course but it left her gasping for air the more teeth dragged over such a sensitive spot, so what reason was there to _stop?_ His tongue traced the earlobe before lips closed around delicate skin drawing it in between. Stefano's left hand was released from Ava's hold then, her reactions uttering surprise as well as pleasure to his actions, and she didn't appear seeking a quick release anymore.  
It did not take very long for Stefano to give in, on edge to see her come undone before his eye. Wasn't he waiting for it as well?

He got to his knees between her spread legs, their gazes locked and Stefano saw anticipation shining in her eyes watching his every move until his face lowered kissing the gap between her breasts. Chest heaved when his tongue delicately licked nipples already hard, all the more sensitive to the movements around them or above. Only a thumb would tenderly caress soft pristine flesh of her breasts, other fingers massaged them as gentle as could be. Stefano was the only one finding pleasure in this, in seeing how quickly nipples became stiff and how soft her breasts were to his touch.  
Kiss after kiss was placed going down her body, beyond the abdomen and lower where Stefano exhaled against moist lips, index finger circling around her clit barely enough for _him_ to feel satiated. Delightfully his tongue pushed between folds to taste her, but Ava's first reaction was rather violent. Between his first few licks up and down her muscles convulsed, involuntarily she jerked away from him for mere inches, but perplexed both of them were.  
  "Ava, what happened? I haven't even---"  
  "What were you doing? Oh God, you should have _warned_ me..." He was... confused. Sat up to look at Ava supporting herself on the elbows, completely unaware of what Stefano had tried to do.  
  "You've never received that before?"  
  "...no." Stefano just took a wild guess, did not actually expect him to be right about it. "It didn't feel bad, I just... Had no idea what you were trying to do." Worse learning no one made her feel _good_ with it before was suspecting she missed out on other things as well.  
  She sits up. Hands reach for him, his waist, brought their bodies close and lips ever closer. Delicate their kiss was, short, meant as an apology from her side --- for those before him not treating her as well as she deserves she needn't feel sorry.  
  "Please do it again," she said against his lips, "I want it." A smile Stefano gives her along with a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth.  
"Enjoy it." 

She laid back holding onto his hands, fingers intertwined, watching him going down once more but this time his movements had lost their slowness. She did not have to wait long for him to begin, gasped in delight once he did; tongue's pushed between wet folds, circling with the tip, sliding up and down again and again and _again_ feeling her tense and release tension as he licked her, switching between a fast pace and slow, teasing motions.  
  Tight she holds on to his hands, squeezing and pulling whenever tongue lightly so touched her clit never giving the full pleasure that she needed, desperately wanted. Ava's breathing became shaky. In- and exhales grew louder, sounds of delight fell from her lips encouraging Stefano to give her what she wanted. Taking his hands out of her grasp to spread folds with his fingers he started sucking at her clit, teeth barely grazing skin.  
  Ava pushed against him, moaning, begging wordlessly. Every sound from her caused Stefano to either quickening up or slowing down pleasuring her, not exactly wanting to stop so soon--- though he couldn't wait to fuck her, witnessing her like this made him feel so incredibly good knowing that only he had such an impact on her.  
  Once he found out what she seemed to enjoy the most--- when he let only the tip of his tongue flick over her clit _**fast**_ \--- Stefano pushed a single finger inside her without hesitating for long. The reaction to that didn't quite satisfy him; feeling her walls constrict weakly around him for a split second. A second finger he adds, pushing both fingers in and out, then he looked up _watching_ her. Their eyes met and he had to grin with his lips around her clit, tongue and fingers working towards satisfaction. Ava moved to lay both her hands on the back of his head and pushed him against her, needy, harsh, desperate and without care for him in this moment. He didn't breathe for a few seconds, wouldn't dare to stop fingering or licking her pussy now that she's so so close. Lightly she released the grip on him, fingers messing with his hair, stroking his forehead and eyebrows and cheeks until Ava closed her eyes feeling her legs quiver---  
  " _ **Fu-uck---!**_ " Crying out curses and pleads she reached ecstasy, back arching and toes curling.  
  She wanted to get away from his touch, felt too much stimulation through the intensity of her orgasm, yet Stefano showed no signs of mercy on her and as he got back on his knees his fingers kept thrusting into her fast and rough, slightly crooked, her wetness dripping down his hand.  
  "Stefano, please, please, _please---!_ " A second time she tried bringing distance between his fingers and her body, a weak attempt stopped by Stefano pushing Ava down into the pillows with his free hand on her chest; she dug her nails into his arms and gave up as her orgasm slowly subsides leaving her breathless. 

__Fingers were pulled out of her, laid still above the lower stomach feeling her body heaving from the aftermath of climax. Ava could taste herself when Stefano kissed her, his tongue pushing inside her mouth eagerly not granting a second of rest.  
  Passionate their kisses were, softly lapping at each other's lips or carefully biting down to feel the other grinning, though after a while Stefano broke contact to her lips but remained near.  
  "Say it to me again," he demanded, "I want to hear it again." She pretended not to know what he meant, a beautiful smile on her closed lips so he wouldn't notice her hand sneaking down between them to grab his cock.  
  "Hh-ah--- Ava," his breath fanned over her face and words didn't come over his lips easily anymore, "Tell me again..." Stefano tried so so hard to uphold this demeanor for himself, but she keeps messing around with him--- gives his cock a few firm strokes and acted like she waited for _him_ to do something. And he did push into her grasp slow and steady, breathing out against her lips before cupping her face with both his hands. Waiting for those words...  
  "Fuck me, Mr. Valentini." She spoke with a soft voice, eyes hazed with lust. Heat rose up his neck, leaving a tingling sensation on it's way and Stefano _couldn't_ hold back much longer. Searched for the condom he's put in reach earlier with one hand, the other moved down Ava's throat, chest, abdomen.  
  "Gladly." came his hushed response before opening the foil and she let go of him for Stefano to put the condom on, shivering while he did so.  
  "I'm yours, Mr. Val---" Her voice trailed off to a moan as he pushed inside her warmth, deeper once her legs wrapped around his waist. Stefano doesn't move yet. Places a kiss next to her ear and speaks sweetly, quietly. "I'm afraid I didn't let you finish," another kiss, lips smoothing over skin down to her jawline, "What is it you wanted to say?" He began moving. Back and forth, slowly.  
  "I'm yours, Mr. Valentini," she promised, "I'm yours." 

__It wasn't long until the pace sped up and thrusts got rough. Ava didn't keep her legs around him, found it to be difficult when he moved like this, though now he could force them to spread further for him with hands on her knees and like this found the best view on her from his position. She barely reached him now; clung to bedsheets and _watched him_. The way he moved, the way he smiled and, when she'd clench around his cock, the way he bit his lower lip.  
  Stefano's thrusts became less quick, but deeper and harsher with each second passing, bringing Ava to close her eyes and let her back arch. She moaned aloud, every single thrust eliciting more cries from her.  
  "Look at me," he groaned, "Look at me when I fuck you."  
Ava couldn't bring herself to comply, her head shaking in response and turning it to the side eyes stubbornly closed. It was embarrassing to look at him now, showing her face to him like this while she was completely lost in pleasure. "N--no--"  
  That didn't sit well with him.  
  Stefano goes deeper, his voice louder.  
  "Look at me."  
Oh, she tried. Turned to look into his face, his eye, and before he changed the nature of his moves it hasn't felt so _dirty_ to watch Stefano. For long Ava wasn't able to keep open her eyes; Stefano reached to grab her jaw, turned her face back to him and held her like this, not once stopping to buck into her.  
  "I said _look at me!_ Let me see your _**eyes.**_ " Her breath hitched when he spoke louder, but he hasn't seemed to notice that he did in the first place. Wilder he'd become, almost violent.  
Ava opens her eyes and looks at him, saw that he grinned when she finally complied.  
  " _Yes, good_. Just like that," Stefano lowered his voice and released the hold on her face, " _Beautiful_."  
  Where before Ava felt afraid that he would yell again, she remembered his promise that he would not--- thought that passion had gotten the better of him and she understood if it did. Only embarrassment that he would see her moan and sink deeper and deeper into pleasure while Ava had to look into his face had kept her from doing what he wanted her to do.  
  And in the end it felt not bad at all.  
  They locked gazes.  
  Stefano came down and close to her, supporting his upper body on his arms right next to her head.  
  " _You are mine!_ " Stefano said under his breath and received a smile from her, one that shows teeth and turns into a short chuckle.  
  "I a---" Whatever she wanted to reply it turned into a long, drawn out moan: Stefano drove his cock into her as deep as he could get, slowing down but reaching sweet spots that made Ava lose control over herself. She cursed, begged, _pleaded_ for him not to stop, voice crying out over and over, her eyes never leaving his. Much longer he wouldn't last, more he couldn't take--- she felt **_so good_** , looked **_so beautiful_**. Stefano's arms came to wrap around Ava, pulling her to him as close as she can be, buried his face in the crook of her neck and fucked her fast as never before while she whined and groaned with a shaky voice underneath him, her fingers desperately dragging down his backside to pull him in...  
His fingers clenched with her skin between them as he came, bucking into her for the last time and staying inside to relish his climax completely; Stefano was the one cursing now, words drawn out as moans or they'd gotten lost in completely incoherent whines muffled by Ava's neck against his opened mouth. 

__Like this they remained for minutes that felt like hours, hands not standing still one second; fingers messed with his hair, caressing and stroking soon to wander down his neck, skin warm to her touch. Countless kisses he's planting on her neck and soon they're trailing up her chin to full lips for a long innocent kiss where he breathes out still shaking the littlest. Stefano found that he doesn't want this moment to end. Refuses to move much to stay inside her and keep her close to him. By now she clung to him with her legs tight around his lower body.  
  "Stefano," she spoke, closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, "Don't let go of me."  
  "I couldn't. " 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, are we back on schedule for soulcrushing angst in the next chapter? no...? ....you'll be surprised.


	13. Slave to My Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past grants no rest and Stefano finds himself torn between aphrodisia and extreme apprehension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic (sexual)violence and may not be suited for the faint of heart or those who are easily disturbed.

Although she refused to let him get up as quickly, Stefano had been very convincing about it: said he'll be back in a few minutes after cleaning himself off, and then they would have the rest of the night together. She meant to tease when holding on to his hand as he got up and off the bed and, no, he didn't mind that at all.  
  " _Two minutes._ " He looked down to her making a promise, yet she insisted.  
  "One..?"  
  "I'll make it three, then," was his reply upon leaving the bedroom, "Perhaps five."  
  "I'll keep that in mind until next time!" She called after him disappearing in the bathroom, could hear him laugh in response. 

  Almost instantly his mood clouded upon seeing himself in the mirror. Hair a mess, no longer covering the right side of his face, and he felt panic grow inside of him, coldness gnawing at bones and making him gasp for air. With words of reason Stefano tried to calm himself down, voice in his head loud and clear but not as helpful in this situation as he hoped it would be.   
  _'But she knew it before, right? Sooner or later she would have seen it, why do you mind it now? You wanted her to look at you like that. You wanted her to see. Right? Hoping to get a reaction from her, but she completely ignored it. What do you think it means?'_  
He'd forgotten the reason why he actually went into the bathroom, but looking down on him trying to shut the voice out, he removed the condom and threw it in the trash. Hands shook, he felt embarrassed, ashamed, _exposed._  
  By now he must have spent more than five minutes in the bathroom standing idle, hands clinging to the edge of the sink and Stefano was unable to look at himself in the mirror again. Where are the feelings from before? Minutes ago, half an hour ago. He had felt good. He had been okay.  
  Why not now?  
  Why not...?  
  _Why doesn't she care?_  
Stefano ran the cold water, let it pour over his hands until it hurt, until it stung. Splashed some on his face in a weak attempt to wash away worries and make him forget---

  "Stefano?" Ava lightly tapped at the door, hearing her voice startled him, "Are you alright?"  
  No, I'm not--- "Yes." The water was still running, his answer too quiet for her to hear him.   
  "Stef-"  
  " _I'm fine!_ "   
He hit the water tab a little too hard turning the stream off, ice-cold hands wiped over his face. Stefano didn't know if she was still outside the door, too afraid to open up he stood and waited, breath shallow.  
  "I'm here for you." Ava reassured firmly, and she kept waiting until he unlocked the door and stepped out, still trembling. He resisted to touch her now with hands so cold, averted his gaze as well.

  "Come on, now. Let's go to bed," she said and reached out taking his right hand before he was able to react, "Before it gets colder." Stefano went along with her, watched her crawl under the sheets and he did so, too, but kept a certain distance. He hasn't yet found a way to deal with all of this: the guilt and the shame and the knowledge that he had ruined tonight for both of them.   
Ava spoke not when she moved closer to him, put her hand on the right side of his face and softly caressed chilly skin after pushing his hair out of the way. He didn't want that--- doesn't want her to feel it, doesn't want her to see it... he wants to pull back, to push her hand off and attempts to do so: she stopped him with gentle force and then spoke to him quietly.   
  "I've seen it before, Stefano. The first time I met you I noticed it, in your studio I saw it, too. You don't need to hide anything from me, I assure you."  
  "---I didn't want this."  
  "What..?"  
  "That you see it. I was hoping you never would." He knows it was dumb. Practically impossible to achieve, too. How big was the part of him that was glad she had seen it yet did not ask about it once, and how violent the piece of his mind that was angry at her for never doing so?  
  "Why not, Stefano?" Ava hasn't stopped to caress him, tried to help him remain calm.  
  "I lost more than my eye on that day and all I received in return were nightmares, intrusive thoughts and so much doubt in myself. Bits and pieces of me seem to have disappeared, made place for... something else. Something that is darker and, admittedly, more beautiful. So far I haven't figured out a way to properly deal with all of this." Relieved, Stefano exhaled slowly, after a long time laid his hand on her back, skin no longer cold.  
  "You can take action. You can do something with all of that which you're scared of and turn it around."  
  "---It led me to you."  
Silence sinks over them. Ava proposed to him what Stefano has already done, or well, tried to do--- turning that desperation into _**art**_. If she hadn't left before they started, perhaps Stefano would feel different about this misery. Not as hopeless, not as scared. Inspired he wanted to feel, he wanted to create, to achieve greatness and receive the appreciation he deserves.  
  "The failed session was supposed to be my first one after such a long time..."   
  "I... I didn't know. I'm so---"  
  " _ **Don't**_. We've been through the conversation already. I may not have gotten a new creation out of it, but I have _you._ " The look on her face was one of sadness before it changed into contentment over his last few words.   
Stefano spoke before she would ask more of him, exhausted from this storm of emotions. He wished it would have remained blissfully alike the high he felt with her and after his orgasm.   
  "I'll tell you more tomorrow, but for today I'm quite literally worn down."  
  "I haven't slept for almost two days... it's about time we got some rest," carefully she kissed his lips cuddling up to him, hand on his face still, "Sleep well, Stefano."

_He stood with a knife in his hand, cutting delicate lines into pristine flesh drawing blood from the body before him, listening in awe to his subject's screams and cries. The sound rang in his ear, made his blood boil with excitement and arousal, naturally so Stefano did not even think of stopping at this point. He could only recognize agonized screaming as sweet moans, an invitation for him to continue. Blood splattered on his shoes, seeped into clothes and onto the ground. So much blood. Wonderful..._  
  The body in front of him stopped resisting once Stefano pushed the knife through a breathing ribcage, stabbing again and again until it fell limb to his feet with a thump. So sad... he will miss those lovely moans she'd make when he drove the sharp edge of his knife along her lower abdomen, painting her skin a beautiful crimson.  
  "Such a shame, such wasted potential... I have been too excited this time." His work did not stop there; Stefano grabbed a fist full of hair sticky with sanguine fluid, curls no longer shining bright, and dragged the body to the centre of his studio leaving behind a trail of blood and tears.   
Stefano places her to appear only sleeping, arms laying above the wounds in her ribcage as if to shield her lungs and her still heart, legs slightly spread to reveal but a little of vulgarity.   
  When he continued to brush the hair from her face, for some reason he felt like he was being watched... No one else but him stood in the room as Stefano glanced around him suspiciously and the artist discarded the feeling very quickly, moving on to the task at hand. Gloved fingers would grasp strands of auburn hair until her face was revealed and Stefano discovered that it wasn't blood colouring her hair.  
  "No..." Icy horror struck his nerves, pressed the air out of his lungs and Stefano stumbled backwards, let the knife drop to the ground.   
  "What have **you** done!?" He could not recognize his own voice, yelled at himself and received distorted answers.   
  "Is **this** your masterpiece?"  
  "Stop it! No!"  
  "Simplistic. Anyone could have created this. You call yourself an **artist?** "  
  "Please! Please shut up..."  
  "You're nothing. You will never be anything. This debris you call art **won't ever be appreciated**."  
  "I don't care..! I don't care, I don't care...!" He fell to his knees, weeping and praying and shouting uncontrollably, begging for any entity to bring her back to him, to make all of this **STOP!**  
  "No one can save you now, Mr. Valentini." A different voice spoke above everything else, a voice familiar but a face Stefano didn't have to match it yet...  
  "But I can help you achieve what you so desire. All you have to do is reach out to me, ask and you shall receive."   
Stefano recognized the voice too late. Watched from his miserable position on the ground as Ruben Victoriano picked up Ava's dead body; the scars on the doctor's face no longer hidden under bandages.  
  "I mean no harm to you." 

Stefano was ripped from heavy sleep with a dry throat and mouth, feeling a weight pushing down on his stomach. Blindly his hands grasped into the darkness searching for it's source, fingers poking against Ava's thighs, then he felt something tickling his chest. Sweating, shaking and still exhausted Stefano opens his eye to find her above him, holding his face, kissing his forehead.  
  Was he still dreaming?   
  He was scared.  
  So scared...  
She didn't seem to notice, held his hard cock in her hand giving it harsh strokes. Oh... no... Images of his nightmare came flooding back, clouded his mind, his consciousness. He remembers the cries coming from her, remembered his knife delving into her body---  
  "No--" The situation worsened when Stefano realized it was his nightmare that aroused him, aroused him to the point of his dick becoming hard and aching.  
  "You've been moaning in your sleep," she whispers innocently, never stops to kiss his face, "And called for me," her lips ghosted over his right eyebrow and he could feel her breath, "You were already so hard, I couldn't resist."  
  Roughly his hands clenched around her waist, he tried to push her down from him, afraid of letting this horror turn into sex. She took it as a sign of lust, stroking him even harder.  
  "Ava, stop--" She pretended not to hear it but smiled against his sewn eye before lining up his cock to her entrance, lowering down on it eliciting a sound of pleasure. He looked at her being so completely oblivious, so god damn naive--- minutes ago Stefano killed her in his nightmares and now she sits on top of him moaning lowly in her throat.  
  "I beg you..." He doesn't want satisfaction from this, couldn't bring himself to act now after witnessing such terror---   
But she was alive. Breathing. Kissing and fucking him both at the same time, sweetly whispered how good he felt. Stefano only clenched his teeth feeling her warmth taking him inside wholly, time after time and eventually gaining speed.  
  " _Ava!_ " He growled low in his throat, his fingers bruising Ava's skin, scratching and pinching sure to leave nasty marks...  
  "You're so much harder than last night," she says, voice thick with lust, "What happened that got you like this?" She doesn't expect an answer and did not wait for it, either. Caught his lips for a deep kiss pushing her tongue inside his mouth.   
  He violently pushed her down from him and onto her back---she bit his lips in the process and drew blood, stared at him with wide eyes. 

Blood drips from his lip and down onto her chest.

He loses control seeing a hint of trepidation laced with greed in her brown eyes, forces her to her knees in front of him.   
  "Turn around, and do it _fast_." Patience nonexistent, Stefano grabs Ava by her hips tugging her body close and thrust into her pussy from behind without as much as a thought. He picks up a brutal pace, licked the blood from his lips and closed his eye---sees her hair drenched in blood and her chest cut open by his knife.   
  "Fuck, oh--- Stefano, please! I want more, please, _Stefano---!_ " Her head rested on her crossed arms, unable to keep herself up.  
  He might as well help her.  
  "I will _hurt_ you," Stefano says, "Fuck you numb." Both his hands extend to get a hold of her hair, catching as much as he can holding it together as a tail in his left hand then: he pulls her up, and fiercely so. Forces Ava to look at him beding over her.   
  She still moaned for him, tears in her eyes but a smile flashing on her lips.  
  "Ah, yes..." He yanked her back further, "Smile for me." Putting the other hand around her throat it didn't take long for Ava to gasp for air and release, she looked at Stefano with his lips bloody and a fire in his eye she hasn't seen anywhere before.  
  Without a warning Stefano pulled out of her, let her hair fall onto her back and allows her to fall on her chest. For a few sweet seconds Stefano allowed her to rest before commanding again.   
  "One last time now, turn around to me. I'm not done yet." 

She complies with weak arms, wet eyes and dry lips slightly parted, looked up at him waiting for more...   
  "Open your mouth. _Come closer._ " Stefano didn't have to say more. Her eyes remained on him when she took his cock in her mouth. The tip first, tongue circling around it---   
  "Did you think this would be enough?" Stefano grabs her head keeping it in place while thrusting into her mouth, uncontrollably and painfully deep. He didn't care for her gagging, came quickly inside her mouth, his head thrown back and mouth open calling out in pleasure, moans stuck deep within his throat.   
Slowly his grip on Ava released, slowly he came down from that disturbed high and, breathing heavily still diving into the false feeling of passion, Stefano looks down to see Ava still struggling with the hysterical actions of him, swallowing what he had to give but visibly weary after it all.  
  "Was I too harsh?"  
She needed to catch her breath coming back up to lay her head on his chest, leaning against him for support and the heat he's radiating.  
  "No... No, you weren't. But--- Stefano, could you..." She looks at him, searching for words though in the end seemed to let drop what she actually meant to ask, "...just hold me for a while?"   
He gave not a vocal answer. Brought arms around her body so tight he could feel her breathing got slower against his chest, but he didn't care. He felt her _breathing_ and nothing else mattered to him but to know that she is okay and alive.  
  Even if, however, Stefano himself felt neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song "Blood on My Hands" by 'The Used' perfectly fits this chapter and if you want, I recommend you listen to it.


	14. художник

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am your artist.  
> My life will be my life,  
> what we are missing, I will finish.

He found no more sleep for the rest of this night, watched as the sun rose outside and illuminated the room; trying to chase away the demons hiding in the darkness watching over him with unhealthy obsession. Weak fingers, cold and stiff, kept drawing invisible lines on Ava's shoulders while she could sleep peacefully next to him, appeared so serene not knowing what it was that pushed Stefano over the edge when they had sex before.  
Stefano doesn't want to get up at all. Even though he did not feel comfortable in his own skin, there wasn't a way out anyway so why attempt? He could remain here, watching over her. Slowly losing himself in the process.  
  "I pray you'll never know," he speaks into the silence quietly, words but a breath, "I won't let anything happen to you." 

It was late in the morning when she woke up next to him with her arms still around his body since she fell asleep.   
  "You're finally awake." He feigned a smile and drew closer to her. She bent to kiss him, so sleepy she only reached his chin.  
  "Sadly, ya." Ava rolled on her back, wiping the sleep from her eyes before stretching arms and legs. "How long did I sleep..? Shit, how late is it..." Stefano had no clue either. Time didn't actually pressure him those days.   
  She got up leaving the bedroom and Stefano behind, yet it wasn't that he felt sad about their moment now being over.  
  More were to come, right?

  "Good morning to you too, Ava." His voice sounded overly exaggerating and he as well got out of bed, searching for something to dress in quickly, choice so fell on the bathrobe hung up on the door.  
  "I'm sorry! I have an appointment and--- shit, where did all of my clothes go! ---Good morning!"  
  "You left half of them in my bedroom," he answers, comes to embrace her bare body from behind, "How much time do you have left?" Ava was checking the phone for messages before he had gotten close to her, now pressing it to her chest.  
  "Barely enough to get dressed..." In his arms she turned around after putting the phone back down on the table, not locking it. "I'm sorry." In response Stefano lightly shook his head, cupped Ava's face in both hands and kissed her lips.   
  "As long as you'll be back, I don't mind it."  
  "In a few hours, yes." She sounded happy and Stefano let go of her so she could get dressed. She rushed by him back into the bedroom, had picked up her other clothes from the ground here. Stefano stood still gazing at her phone laying on the table with a new message on the screen. 

  Ava hurried into the bathroom and he heard the lock turn, found it strange that she had hidden her phone once he embraced her.  
  He... doesn't want to be like that, and perhaps it's nothing in the first place. She just must have been surprised...  
Curiosity and a faint sense of uncertainty stung in his chest and eventually, he picked up Ava's phone to read the current messages from the conversation the screen showed. 

_[msg received 10:19p.m. > R.] Let me know how things are developing._

_[msg sent 11:21p.m. < R.] I can't do this, he ignores me completely... I don't know what to do now._

_[msg received 11:40p.m. > R.] Keep trying._

_[msg sent 11:59p.m. < R.] You were right._

_[msg received 09:52a.m. > R.] I knew things would fall into place. Are you enjoying yourself?_

_[msg sent 09:56a.m. > R.] Yes._

_[msg received 09:58a.m. > R.] Do not forget what we talked about._

The most recent message felt threatening to Stefano, but he could not quite put his finger on why it did. He assumed she was talking to a friend. About Stefano, about what happened, and the artist thinks her... friend provided support along the way of going back to him and he felt if he ever got the chance for it, that Stefano needs to thank him.  
  He _knew_ she wasn't hiding anything from him. Ava would never lie to him, not after what they said to each other last night, what they had done, what she did to him. There was no reason for him to be suspicious at all. Not only does he feel worse than before now, shaking that feeling of uncertainty wasn't as easy as he hoped for.

  "Stefano, I have to go but I'll be calling you or text you! Okay? Wait, where did I..." He took the phone from the table, arm reached out for her to take it. He was afraid she'd suspect him taking a look, expected her to ask, but instead...  
  "God, I'm so tired and... it's a miracle I'm still standing. Thank you." She smiled so brightly, so incredibly content. So, so beautiful and pure, how could he ever think of hurting her?  
  "I am afraid I had a hand in that. Do you want me to make it up to you? I _would._ " Stefano doesn't fool around, thinks she could just make herself comfortable here with him for the rest of this day as soon as she returned.   
  "There is nothing you need to make up for, seriously," she assures and steps closer to him, "As long as this wasn't the last time, I'm happy."   
  "No," he insisted promptly, "This was not the last time. I promised you." Stern he sounds, brows furrowed. For a second her gaze dropped before she looked back at him just as stern as he acted.  
  "I'm back soon, yes?" Slowly she kissed him, arms sneaking around his neck for a short embrace before Ava pulled away from Stefano and turned around leaving the apartment.

The thought of calling his doctor came to mind sometime around today, seeking answers and the aid that the ghost in Stefano's dream promised. Stefano had no clue what to do with this kind of symbolism, doesn't know the other man's role in his life to the full extent and he ponders if he ever wants to find out. Overall it came no longer too hard to Stefano to talk about his issues with the doctor, though that slight fleeing of uneasiness and fear he may never be able to discard when thinking about him. It must be the man's appearance, that threatening aura surrounding him, the chill Stefano felt in the air when entering that office.  
Or simply the humiliation of opening his heart and mind to someone like Ruben Victoriano. 

Instead of calling for the psychiatrist's help, Stefano sunk back within the distorted madness his head created, the images flashing before a closed eye more vivid than before. The screams he could hear clearly, echoing, never ending. He felt the hilt of a knife in his hand, its sharp edge glistening with blood. A heavy coppery smell all around him made Stefano lightheaded, yet all the more driven by thirst and greed.  
The second Stefano faced the dangers of going too far into his mind, his phone vibrates, violently pulling the man back to reality.

_[msg received 02:17p.m. > Ava W.] Its gonna take me a little longer to get to you, will need to pick up some things from home. I hope you're doing okay_

_[msg received 02:17p.m. > Ava W.] You're on my mind all the time_

Thirst made place for pleasant warmth, no longer there were blood and despair in his thoughts. How can she have such a great impact on him, completely captivating and disorienting, a bright light to scare off the demons while at the same time it was her Stefano saw when overwhelmed with sick and twisted prurience to feel blood on his hands? He took a long time to answer, by now craved to see her again.

_[msg sent 02:38p.m. < Ava W.] I can come and pick you up if you want me to. Don't make me wait much longer and I will feel just fine, Ava._

_[msg sent 02:40p.m. < Ava W.] If only you knew... It's you on my mind as well._

Long Stefano didn't need to wait for her answer.

_[msg received 02:43p.m. > Ava W.] Are you sure..? Its 1359 Cross Ave! I would just take my car._

_[msg sent 02:44p.m. < Ava W.] Insane... Come pick me up then, and we can visit a place I know. I would love to take a few photos._

_[msg received 02:47p.m. > Ava W.] I hope you have your camera ready! I'm looking great, you'll see._

This was all he needed. To take pictures again. See her.  
  Stefano will have to get dressed... lazily moved from one side of his couch to the other for the sole purpose of taking a cigarette from the box for a quick smoke before he would do literally anything. The prospect of seeing Ava again that soon excited him... time without her went by much too fast, scary almost; he dared not complain.   
But Stefano _should_ truly feel bad for smoking inside, the stench won't ever come off again.

_[msg sent 03:23p.m. < Ava W.] Are you on your way?_

_[msg received 03:24p.m. > Ava W.] Dont text & drive_

_[msg sent 03:26p.m. < Ava W.] Ava, no!? Are you driving?_

_[msg received 03:27p.m. > Ava W.] no <3_

  "What is less than three supposed to mean...?" 

 

Around the time he got dressed and gathered the camera-bag and spare films, and condoms just in case, his phone buzzed a couple times already. 

_[msg received 03:46p.m. > Ava W.] Mr. Valentini, your driver is here to pick you up._

_[msg received 03:50p.m. > Ava W.] I know that probably wasn't as funny as it sounded in my head, but_

_[msg received 03:56p.m. > Ava W.] Oh God, that joke didnt strike you dead, or?_

_[msg received 04:02p.m. > Ava W.] :(_

_[msg sent 04:02p.m. < Ava W.] :-)_

_[msg received 04:03p.m. > Ava W.] Oh God please dont!!! just get down already!!!_

First he needs to stop laughing.

 

He goes outside, the bag in his hand and still trying to contain the laughter that stubbornly persisted, and reminiscing her last message didn't help him stay quiet. Distantly though he's hoping Ava won't hold it against him in the future for the mere reason of reminding Stefano how awkward he is with those kind of things.

What car should he be looking for..? Too many parked along the road, how should he figure out where Ava was?  
  "Well, hello there," Ava let down the window to the passenger's seat calling for him, "Need a ride?"  
  "Excuse me, I was told not to get into unfamiliar cars." A navy blue BMW, so?  
  "Oh, _fucking_ hell, Stefano."  
Flashing a wide smile at him she unlocked the doors, barely able to act all stern now that he gets inside, perhaps preparing to educate him on the subject of texting using those strange... what were supposed to be faces, he thinks.   
  She had sunglasses on, was wearing a blue dress and from what he saw it barely reached her knees. He notices the dress had the same color as her car and wondered if he should ask if its _coincidence_ or not.   
  The color fits her well. _That Stefano knows._

  "I seriously thought you wouldn't fit inside." She says, waited for him to close the door and fasten the seatbelt.  
  "I fit just right I'd say. And have not heard you complain."  
  "...what? I'm..." A few seconds it takes her to catch on, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me..." Combined with the laughter from before and her reaction in this moment, Stefano for one couldn't resist and surely can't hold it back for longer, he laughs and eventually she _had_ to join in.   
  "I missed you," she finally said to him, "I really did." Stefano caught his breath before leaning over to her and she came close as well, lips met for a gentle kiss.  
  "I missed you, too."

  "Alright then, where are we going? What's your plan for today?"  
  "Outside the city in the western region there had been another large part of the country that was in Krimson's property, but the city lost it many years ago. The buildings are largely intact if not nearly finished, and offer a wonderful scenery for taking photos. You will not find something alike inside of Krimson City."  
  "I've heard of it. They planned to attract more tourists, as if anyone would love to spend their holidays here," she started the car again and quickly turned down the music, "Shit, I'm sorry. Forgot I had the volume all the way up."  
  "It will be a long ride and I _am_ curious to hear what kind of music you listen to." Stefano wanted to know anything, everything about her. 

  "Maybe you won't like it at all. By now I don't know exactly what music is on the stick anymore, haven't listened in a while. Oh, by the way!" The change of her tone was surprising, Stefano turned to look at her and saw how she bent to put her arms around him. "I told you already, but I missed you. And I hoped you were alright," she speaks right next to his ear, "I had the feeling something wasn't okay."   
  Stefano felt her heart beating next to his own, smelled the perfume she used when they first met, couldn't stop thinking about how much he already _ached_ to touch her that day. Each and every little thing he notices about Ava makes him want her more, gives him the feeling of safety, of affection, and this primal urge to hold her body tight with no intention to let go. 

  "I don't mind you saying it again, Ava. Today I haven't felt my best, that is true..." A second he stops and inhales deeply, taking in her scent, "You are here now and there is no longer a reason for me to feel heavyhearted."   
  Lips were pressed to his neck. And he felt her heart beat ever faster, the warmth she radiated soothing and tempting simultaneously. Ava inched away from him then, merely to bring their lips together in a kiss that began soft, picking up intensity and passion swiftly. She opened her mouth, inviting, tongue slid over his lips first not leaving Stefano much time for a reaction; she had her way with him, and he didn't mind.

  "If you still want to take photos today, we should head out," Ava told him, her lips remaining unbearably close to his mouth, "And--" Stefano didn't let her finish, stole another kiss from Ava and let go of her afterward. She was right.   
  "And?" Unable to keep a straight face, he grinned at her while she hit the gas.  
  "We need to talk about you never being allowed to send emojis again, Stefano," she talked all serious and he _enjoyed_ it, "This was way beyond spooky. That... that thing you sent."  
  "It had a little nose though, unlike yours. Besides? What is _less than three_ supposed to mean?"  
  A short glance Ava shot him, looked back on the road in feigned shock.

  "Its a heart! Flip your phone and you'll see."  
  "I fear I'm not any good with these things, and should I be? You might do a good job educating me."  
  "No more emojis, okay? Explaining it feels a lot stranger than I thought it would. I'll leave you in the dark about it, maybe it'll give me some good laughs."  
  "I should be offended."  
  "Or accept your fate," Ava replied promptly, laughing a little, "And listen to my music. Do you mind if its loud?"   
  "No, not at all, I'm only curious to see what you like."  
She kept switching the tracks, eyes glued to the road before them; and Stefano noticed the way her hand would tap the stirring wheel every now and then when the traffic got worse. After ten or so skipped songs Ava turned up the volume, expressing satisfaction through a sigh he could barely hear, and finally the traffic cleared too. 

He couldn't understand a word from the song and wasn't sure what language it was in the first place, but it did not sound bad to him. Stefano felt the bass pulsate through his chest, thought heartbeat adjusted to the music through the intensity of it. This sensation was intriguing; he couldn't wait for more.  
  Now he would not ask about the lyrics, rather so enjoyed the music and the feeling loud sounds sent through his body.  
  The volume was lowered and, although a bit disappointed, the artist turned to ask.  
  "What was it about? And the language...?"  
  "Oh, its russian! Hm, I was told the song is called Artist, and it's about the artist painting a picture of his beloved, using colors to describe her. So you liked it?"   
  "I did, truly. Especially through your sound-system. But why russian music?"  
  "One of my close friends is from Lithuania, and she introduced me to a couple of great songs and artists," she sighed at the next red traffic light, looked at Stefano then, "We have a long ride ahead of us. Let's turn the volume all the way up."   
  _Sweet Caroline_ began to play and with a long exaggerated groan Stefano got comfortable in his seat. He neither minded the music nor how long it may take; Ava laughed a little.

This day better lasts forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned is called художник by ElDark. ♡


	15. Spanish Sahara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lines between passion and jealousy are blurred.

One would absolutely despise driving through the streets of Krimson City at this time of the day. Traffic was insane and somehow they hit each red light on their way out of the city; by then the road was almost empty, allowance for Ava to speed up. It felt like flying.  
  "You don't mind me driving so fast, do you?"  
  "Not at all. There's not a reason for me not to trust you." A short glance she gave him, out of the corner of his eye Stefano could see her smiling. There was nothing to be afraid of except perhaps the speed limit...   
Minutes ago the music faded to be a calming background noise, no longer he felt vibrations from the sound and ever so slowly the beating of his heart stopped to be a distracting sensation.   
  "Where have you been today, Ava?" Actual curiosity you'd hear, the messages he read this morning long forgotten.  
  "Had a photoshooting. It went okay I think, but the results aren't as good as I hoped they would be."  
 _I could have done better,_ he thinks, _and you would have been more than happy._ Stefano doesn't voice his thoughts, figured it may be too pretentious. The lack of response on his end made Ava shift in her seat, yet she keeps talking.  
  "So I've went there after leaving your place visibly tired, just heard the photographer complain about it all the time I somehow tried to fix my hair and... literally everything. Haven't been very professional, either, may have made a couple remarks... the guy didn't shut up for a minute! Anyway, once I changed clothes he kept pointing out how difficult it would be to make me look _good_ later on, how much he had to fix digitally. Said something along the lines of _'Oh, probably can't make it look natural anymore, but at least it'll be bearable to look at the photos.'_ I just! Wanted to punch that asshole."  
  "Did you?" Despite nasty anger swelled his chest, Stefano doesn't say what was on his tongue yet; mainly insults he thought of, but Ava needed reassurance more than this guy deserved toxic words.  
  "No, no, and I regret it! ---i wouldn't do that, actually. Not if I want to keep my reputation."  
  "Personally, I would have been proud," he responds, "You don't deserve to hear those kind of words from anyone, especially not if they want to work with you despite the things they say about you beforehand. Also saying his photos will need digital adjustments was an insult toward himself and clear lack of skills."  
  "Honestly, I haven't met a single photographer that doesn't photoshop his pictures. You won't find any photo of me in a magazine that shows how I actually look like, curves and flaws. My hair never has the right color, either."  
  "They call themselves _artists_ when clearly they are not." Distantly he wondered why he even bothered; knowing he can do a better job than any of those people she met, considering Stefano had seen almost any photo of her taken by others, wasn't him being pretentious or conceited. Its the truth.   
She shook her head. "Most of them don't. They're not like you, Stefano."  
  "No, of course not."

  "You can take a look at the photos from today, if you want. He printed them out, picked only one or two after photoshop worked it's magic. My bag is...somewhere around here." She pointed behind her, no further thoughts are spent when Stefano reached for it on the backseat. He takes the folder out, her bag on the ground between his legs, hands driven by curiosity as he goes through the photos. Aside that they've been clearly taken by a professional _photographer,_ they are far from being artistic or in any other way impressive; Ava's on them, though, her image alone sends tingles up his spine and she was the only reason he kept browsing.  
  "You are so beautiful in each of them. Why would any sane person complain..?" Voice but a murmur, merely as appreciation meant to be kept to Stefano himself.  
  "He said I wasn't very convincing."  
  "How can he blame you if he doesn't give you a chance to be? Digitally altering them doesn't make it more _convincing_ , simply takes away everything you are."  
  "Wait until you see what he did."  
The next photo is one of those she mentioned. At first Stefano was irritated; Ava stood nude, only her hair covering her breasts, her hands holding a blue butterfly in front of her abdomen. At least she wore some clothes on the previous pictures...  
  "This isn't you," he says, "You don't look like that." He would know best. In the photograph her skin was darker than usual, her hair didn't shine in the slightest and was not red but appeared brown, like rust; the woman in this had lost her essence.   
  "You see, the shooting was meant to provide photos for a magazine and their article about breast-cancer awareness, but the guy kept messing around until I was allowed to undress. I think he will make it be as though as he had two different models for it."   
He lost his anger by now but refused to look any further. The only peace Stefano was able to find came from the fact that Ava didn't seem to be _herself_ , not a single similarity he found between that photo and his memory of her; or more so, how she appeared sitting right next to him, crimson curls bright in the sunlight.  
  "Saving himself some money is what he did, and he wasted your time," Stefano put away the folder and tried to soften his expression, "For a topic like that, one would expect at least some dignity."  
Ava moved her hand to lay on his thigh as if it was her turn now to reassure him. To his surprise it worked perfectly well---and fast.  
  "You'll be able to take photos soon," she assured him, "The way you want it."

Not much longer until they'd arrived at their destination, and Ava had to search for a relatively safe spot to park the car. The sun shone low and temperatures had fallen only slightly, the grip on time already lost and seemed not important enough for both of them either way. It was easy to tell these buildings close to the main road haven't been taken care of in a long time, falling apart and rotting, walls covered with vines and windows dark from dust and dirt.   
The car parked next to an abandoned hotel and Ava insisted to use an actual parking lot; just in case, she had told Stefano with a lovely smile on her lips. Telling her that no one would show up nor bother if it may be the case, against all odds, didn't faze her at all. After getting out in the gentle breeze and warm sun, Stefano offered Ava a menthol-cigarette while she stood leaning against her car, had used the moment to stretch her arms and legs.  
  "Thank you," she would say with the cigarette between her lips, "I must have forgotten mine somewhere today..."  
  "Perhaps at my place?" He lighted the cigarette for her, too, but stole a tiny kiss from her first, which gained him a surprised expression that changed into something... tender. Ava kissed him in return, more fierce this time, tugging him close on his jacket.  
  "If not I'll just go out and buy some. Or let's stop by somewhere on our way back." She looked around, taking in the scenery, with her back still against the car and that hand holding the cigarette raised next to her head.  
  "Hm..." He takes the first picture without a word of warning intentionally so, the clicking sound brought Ava to turn her head in it's direction.  
  "I wasn't ready---! I'm still smoking."  
  "You need not be, and it doesn't matter. This is how I wanted you."  
  "Paparazzi," she joked, corners of her mouth lifted. In that second Stefano takes the next photo and Ava dared not complain.  
  " _They_ can only dream of capturing you like this."   
  "You're a hopeless romantic, aren't you..." He cannot tell if she said it ironically or not, won't ask about her intention either; throwing away the cigarette's bum and adjusting the bag on his shoulder he then stepped closer to Ava again to take her hand. Motions her to get going and just like that their fingers intertwined. 

  "Have you been here before?" she wanted to know once they'd spent some time in the nearly-finished hotel building. He took some time to answer, mainly because he admired the scenery for a while. Ava waited, watched him.  
  "Once," he finally said, "But I haven't had a camera with me back then." Not quite the answer she must have hoped for, yet what else was there to tell? He has not been here for a long time, nearly forgotten what places there are to explore.   
Lingering in the main hall of the hotel, he notices how much of it changed over time. The walls were once white, now the shadow of nature clung to them; dark spots here and there, vines found their way inside slowly taking over the place again. Traces of people being here recently added no beauty but a sense of corruption, syringes and band-aids thrown mindlessly on the ground, shattered glass a companion to each step.  
  "Let us see if its cleaner upstairs," Stefano decided, "This isn't what I remembered."  
Ava hasn't let his hand go for a mere second yet, held on to him like lovers do. Comfort he found in that thought and in her thumb stroking his skin. 

The next level upstairs looked different from the main hall, brighter and not as dirty, except dust of course and cracks in the walls where bugs crawled along. It was a long hallway with rooms that had no doors to each side as far as one was able to see, a gentle breeze coming in from broken windows drawing visitors deeper within.  
  "Would you go a few steps ahead of me?" She reluctantly let his hand go and did as Stefano asked; pace slow along the tiled floor, each step echoing from the walls. Promptly he looks through the viewfinder of his camera, taking the first shot before Ava was too far away; the sun shining through in front of her made her silhouette glow, and out of habit Ava threw her hair back, one hand still messed with carmine strands as Stefano took the next photo and he had to _grin._  
  "How about we rent a room?" She called out to him, could sound so serious that Stefano had to stop and ask himself if she actually was.  
  "I'm afraid I haven't seen any staff around, Ava. No one would mind if we remained here for some time," by now he caught up to her again, camera still in hand, "You could pick the room that looks the least dusty."  
  "No, my standards aren't that high actually, and I'm sure all these rooms look the same." They were empty of course, no wallpaper, no tiled floor; white cubes and nothing more. Still she walked into one of them and Stefano followed, always a couple steps behind her.

  "Turn around," Ava heard him say, "Slowly, look at me."   
As instructed she haltingly moved around, her head and upper body first and the expression on her face completely overwhelmed Stefano; lips ever so slightly parted and eyes _playing_ with him clouded in both mystery and exposing to him a piece of her mind. As if she was about to tell him a dark and twisted secret expecting a violent reaction, as if she would find pure bliss in it once she revealed her world to him... Stefano's finger trembled a bit when he took that picture, deep within wished Ava wouldn't change her pose, her expression, none of it...  
  "You look quite pleased," she spoke, turns around to him fully, "But I can tell you're shaking."  
  "Because you know exactly what buttons to push, and you do it so _good_."  
  "How do you want me next?"   
_Trembling on the floor, spread wide for me and crying out my name..._  
  "Let me thi---" Ava put a hand on his camera carefully urging him to lower it before she bent up for a kiss that made him moan deep in his throat, a kiss that made him forget how to breathe properly. He heard the familiar click of his camera, she must have her finger on the release button... And while her tongue so smoothly runs over his lips Stefano stands in awe, proper reaction delayed; he doesn't want this feeling to fade, comes ever closer and finally, **finally** , his mouth opens to let her tongue slide inside poking against his. Tongues move around each other, circling and lapping slowly, softly, longingly--- Ava breathes out against his skin and kisses became impatient quickly, asking for more contact that didn't only include mouths but hands, fingers, chests. Stefano used gentle force pushing her back against the closest wall, his knee between her legs moving upwards, spreading them along the way. Ava kept taking photos, Stefano just did not hear it any longer. 

When he attempted to move his hand underneath Ava's dress she stopped him halfway; broke their kiss with wet, swollen lips and the corners of her mouth turned up into a smirk before she sunk down against the wall, free hand on the brim of his pants. Stefano watched her fingers open the belt, the button and zipper then before she let pants drop beneath his knees. In anticipation he shuddered, instinctively moved his hips closer, needy, longing. 

She took down his underwear, too, tongue darted out to lick the tip of his cock leisurely. In circling motions she worked her tongue on him, could feel flesh harden and twitch when, much too Stefano's delight, Ava closed her lips around and took him deep. When she began to move back and forth, he already had his hands on the wall for support, knees trembling, feeling weak, trying not to move along with Ava.   
  Quiet sounds of pleasure fell from his lips once Ava picked up a pace faster and less precise, Stefano had to hold himself back--- the urge to grab her hair, to pull, to force her head near and fuck her mouth senseless washed over him like a violent wave dragging him under--- and Stefano no longer makes an attempt stopping himself, places both hands on her cheeks looking down on her, encourages Ava with the sounds he's making, thrusting into her until she'd gag. He goes back, only a little, and tried again less forceful, less deep but pleasurable enough for him until Stefano found the perfect fit. 

  "Ava--" Fists form in her hair, holding her head in place seconds before he came to push deep within, to hold her in place leaving her no choice but to take it all. He felt Ava swallow, felt her breathe in after he finished, a tremor in his hands and legs.   
Agonisingly slow Ava came back up to lean against the wall, a smile on her wet lips and an expression that said more than a thousand words. She took his breath away with ease, made him weak and defenseless and Stefano craved every split second of it.

  "You won't need my camera," Stefano decided, voice hoarse and thick, "You will need both your hands to hold on to me." Ava gave it to him, eyes never leaving his. Teasing... Stefano put the camera inside the bag, placed both on the ground. When he looked back at Ava she was wetting her lips once more.

  "Do you know what I've done today, Stefano?" Challenging, incredibly lascivious she sounded speaking to him, the artist much too mesmerized to inquire.  
  "I posed for another photographer, naked and unmasked before his eyes," heat began to envelop his heart, spread throughout his entire chest, and she didn't stop to talk.  
  "I enjoyed it _so_ much, Stefano." She's found a condom in his pockets before, picks apart the foil around it and watches his expression change from tenderness to something darker, something _excitingly_ dark, jealousy and passionate intensity in his gaze.  
  "I showed everything to him, I gave him all I had," hands rolled the condom down on his erection and he barely reacted to it, "I asked him to **fuck** me. He felt so---" 

Hands on her backside picked her up, pressed her body against the wall and after tucking aside her underwear, Stefano forced his way inside. Pushed all the way into her wetness, hot and tight--- thought's spinning between ' _she's playing and I love it'_ and ' _what if!?'_ Rationally thinking... she's messing with him in wonderful ways, but Stefano will still fuck her until she begs him to stop, to make her remember, to show her who she belongs to.  
  "Ahh-hh..." She whimpered, clung to him, legs wrapped around his middle tightly.  
  "You're mine," Stefano told her, voice loud and right next to her ear, " _Mine!_ " She whispered his name digging her nails into his clothes, clenched her muscles around him inside.  
  "I will be _the only one fucking you like this_ ," his thrusts are slow and deep, forceful, "You belong to **me!** "   
  " _Stefano---_ "   
Eventually thrusts gained speed, lost their depth and he puts his forehead against hers looking into her face, eyes wide open.  
  " _You will be my art_."

What little composure Ava had left, he fucked it right out of her, fierce each thrust, loud his voice when he moaned or attempted to speak. She said nothing more but his name, sometimes Ava would beg for him to stop, needed to breathe properly again--- his reaction was a grin, a kiss to her lips and a thrust that went deep to make her cry out.   
  "Scream for me. _Beg._ "   
  "Stefano, _please!_ I'm--- I'm _yours, please--!_ "  
More coherent words didn't come from Ava, all distorting into moaning and whining, syllables of his name somewhere in between. Stefano kissed her cheek down to her jawline and neck, closed his lips around flesh and began to draw it in between his teeth, leaving bruises and hickies. 

  " _Ava_..." His last thrusts were furious, much more painful to her but his cock hit all the sweet spots until Stefano gasped deeply, pressed Ava flush against himself and came inside her warmth. She could feel him twitch hard, the force of his orgasm washed over her body as well and left her feeling breathless.   
They held on to each other as if their lives depended on it, she smooths her fingers through black hair and his hands kept Ava's body near.

  "I love you," Stefano whispers, out of breath, "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo.... whats dis..... a thickening plot?


	16. Wire To Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They learn more about each other, and someone is being a massive cockblock.

They stood frozen in time, eyes upon each other and lips parted, tension almost tangible. Ava stared with wide eyes and could no longer form words, Stefano doubts that she ever would in this moment, yet did not regret a single word he spoke. He would say it again, and again, and--- music broke the silence, cut through it like a sword with the malicious intention to disturb their peace. Her phone rang, and Ava reacted instantly to it as if she had waited for something to get them out of this. She looked at him as if she's sorry for the disturbance. Stefano only thought she could have simply ignored the call, but lets her down nonetheless. Where before he felt warm and content, now there was coldness, a mixture of disappointment, anger mixed with helplessness.   
Ava pulled her dress down with one hand, the other took the phone out of her bra to pick up. The words she spoke and how she voiced them came unclear to Stefano, as if she stood against the wind, far away. The man remained at the wall, frantically trying to smooth his breathing.  
  "I'm not in town and I won't be for today. I haven't told you because you didn't need to know about it. What...? No. This is none of your concern and I won't stand to listen to you patronizing me."  
He tried so hard to focus. On reality, her voice, tries to shut out intrusive thoughts and the urge to destroy the next thing he could get his hands on. In slow-motion and too aware of his actions he gets dressed again, heard a ringing in his ears when Stefano picked up his camera. _No, he would not do that._

  "I'm not coming to you," Ava hissed into the phone, "And I don't care what you will do." Stefano remembered the ice-cold tone to her voice from that day she left him behind; now she sounded just like that, if not more dangerous and furious.   
  "All of this is your fault." The phone call ended abruptly, he could hear she's cursing under her breath at whoever had called her.   
No one said a word. The mood switched to be threatening and somewhat hollow, just empty much to his despair; he wanted to hurt whoever killed the moment Stefano had with Ava, while he wished he'd be able to go back in time to take her phone and put it out of her reach. To turn back time and revive their tension, sexual and emotional and _pure_ without allowing any kind of disturbance from the outside world.  
Stefano watched her, Ava at the other end of the room with too much painful distance between them, internally begging her to turn around and come back to him while his chest ached from built up rage that pulled at heartstrings with malign force. 

  "Ava," Stefano was unable to recognize his own voice, "I want to know what happened."  
  "Nothing happened."  
No, he couldn't handle the way her voice sounded, but if he panicked, then how would she react?  
  "This _nothing_ seemed to be quite persisting, though."  
  "I don't need... help," she says and turns to him, eyes glistening, "I don't want help..."  
And just like this his emotions became quiet, anger softened the second Ava sounded no longer resentful but instead fragile, delicate. Afraid and overwhelmed she stood there, fist clenching around the mobile phone that buzzed relentlessly with incoming messages.  
  "I will help you still," Stefano begins and takes those steps towards her, "The way you helped me." Once he was close enough it was Ava who embraced him, sobbing quietly and holding onto him like two days ago. If time was what she needed and someone to cling to, he would provide. Would give her anything she asked for.   
  "I'm sorry," she murmurs, "For ruining everything."  
  "Never have you done something that you need to apologise for, Ava."  
  "I shouldn't have picked up. I... Had to."  
  "Its fine." Stefano did not sound very convincing, Ava just doesn't notice that. Or if she does then nothing gave it away; distance she brought between her body and his, wiped the tears from her face before Ava looked at Stefano with her brows furrowed.   
  "I didn't forget what you said," expression softened, her voice merely above a whisper, "I love you, too."

It was as though nothing negative happened before. As if Ava hadn't taken the call, as if she hadn't cried in Stefano's arms, they had left off exactly where they began. Sweet warmth was now a steady companion to everything he did, the feeling enveloped heart and mind alike.  
  "No, no, don't move so much..."  
  "Let's switch places and see how comfortable you'll be--- ouch..." She was laying down on the ground, arms above her head and hair spread out underneath her.  
  "You would do something dirty the moment I gave you my camera," Stefano says, "Well knowing I am the one to stand in the dark room later on trying to keep a straight face while looking at photos where you're sucking my cock."  
  "That is dirty. I suppose this means no?"  
  "...no."  
She chuckled and opened her eyes to look back at Stefano taking a picture in the right moment standing above her.   
  "It is getting too dark to take photos. The flash just is not doing it for me..."  
  "Wait, you can't stop now--- asking me to lay down and--- I've gotten comfortable now, sorry."

Stefano studied her from this position, idle, the camera's film full by now. So sad... he would have loved to take more of Ava. "We still have a full session ahead of us, do we not..? For all good things must come to an end."  
  "Fine, fine... but you will have to get the dust from my dress, Stefano." Ava got back to her feet, Stefano reaching out both hands for support and as an excuse used to draw her near and, gently so, wiped the dirt from blue fabric while hands moved extra-slow over her ass. He finished with a kiss to her lips, caught her by surprise and wouldn't allow Ava to steal another from him in return---took her hand to leave the hotel before it gets too dark around here.

  "I want to learn more about you," Stefano said on the way back to the car, "Tell me about yourself."  
  "Admit you don't want to listen to my music on the way back, its okay, I can take it."  
  "Although your taste in music is... special, I do not mind to listen. But please, do tell."  
  " _Special_..." She frowned, well aware he doesn't mean to insult her at all. " _Special_ he said..."  
Stefano laughs while getting into the passenger's seat, absolutely serious and in no way thinking Ava actually took offence. Before starting the engine, Ava put her phone back into the cup-holder between their seats without checking for new messages or missed calls. Both heard it buzzing all the time, but neither reacted to it. Now, though, Stefano notices her eyes would wander to the phone ever so often and he wonders... why someone was this perseverant to talk to Ava despite her clearly shutting them off.

  "What do you want to know, Stefano?"  
  "Anything you are willing to share with me. Have you always lived here?"  
  "No, no. I'm from Seattle, but moved here several years ago for my career. I know what you're thinking! Krimson doesn't really seem like a step up from Seattle, but it is when it comes to my personal preferences. Seattle was too big, too bright. Too many paparazzi," she laughed at that, "Krimson is quiet, but full of possibilities for me. I've met a lot of great friends here, found work quickly. I'm from a family of actors, though all that sparkle and glitter wasn't my thing. I still have to watch myself around here, but I'm no longer in the business of acting."

  "Please, go on. What about your family, did they stay in Seattle?"  
  "Yeah, my... relationship to them isn't the best. I pretty much left over night and didn't look back. At first I thought I want to leave this business behind completely, proving a point to my parents that forcing me into it wasn't to my liking, but, eh... I'm good at it."  
Ava gestured when she talked; that he noticed. Sometimes she'd take her hands from the stirring wheel then, still keeping the car under control. Stefano used to do the same while driving before war.  
  "I know all about a foul relationship to the own family, granted they try shape you into something you simply are not. I have left them behind, as well, and have not heard of anyone ever since. The naive, young version of myself hoped America truly is of freedom and endless possibilities."  
  "Sounds like a _but._ Why leave Europe behind..? Move to a whole different continent?"  
  "But... Settling was not very easy for me, despite America having one of the best photography-programs in the world. What more did I need? Never satisfied with the jobs I was offered I decided to settle for war photography. You have seen the end of it."  
  "I... didn't know about that. I mean I... well, thought it happened in an accident, yes. Not war."   
  "Somehow I had luck on my side, that day."   
Ava opened her mouth to say something, yet decided against it. He can tell what she meant to say, though--- perhaps _luck_ was the wrong word.

  "Thank you, Stefano. For telling me about it."   
  "No, I... thought it would not be as easy to do so in the first place. I refused to talk of it--" Her phone rang again. Ava clenched her hands on the stirring wheel, giving the phone a short but scared look. Stefano saw the name of the caller, or, well, that **R.** like on the messages from this morning.  
  "Just stop..." She bit her lip, slowed down the car. For a few seconds Stefano thought she would answer it, but eventually the ringtone stopped playing, resulting in Ava sinking back into her seat.  
  "Turn it off. Or switch it to silent." _Throw it out of the window_ , he added in his mind, his jaw clenching.  
  "I can't right now! If he would just---"  
After half a minute they called once more, and this time Stefano didn't remain as calm. He saw that her hand outstretched in an attempt to grab the phone, but Stefano was quicker.  
  "No!" She tried to keep him from answering, only too late.

  "She's busy," Stefano sneered, "You--"   
Whoever that person called **R.** was, they laughed in response to Stefano's words, a sinister and threatening laugh subsiding quickly.  
  " _No. She is in trouble. Tell her._ "  
  "What---" The phone in his hand beeped, and looking at the display Stefano found the call was ended. He knew that voice, he definitely did, but couldn't remember who it belonged to for the sake of it.  
  "Ava, tell me what happened. He said you're in trouble, and I want to know what happened!"  
  "I..."   
If the phone wasn't locked by her fingerprint, Stefano would have called that person back instantly, demanding answers from them that Ava either refused to give or truly did not have. Why would she not tell him..? Why does she not trust him..?  
  "If you are in any kind of danger, then I _have_ to know. Stop saying there is nothing to be worried about when there clearly is!"  
  "There is nothing to be worried about! He's my manager and found out I have been ditching sessions. That's all. He's mad at me, and I know it was my own fault."  
  "...I see."  
  "Its dumb. I know."  
  "Yes, it is, and you should have told me before I started to worry."   
Ava laid her right hand on his thigh, applied gentle pressure. When she spoke to him her voice was softened, sweet, and Stefano stopped to worry. "I love you. And I wouldn't ever lie to you."

Night time long came when they arrived in Krimson City, leaving the streets almost empty. By now Ava minded the speed limit and one was able to see how much she disliked that.  
  "I am curious. Have you ever gotten a ticket for speeding?" A corner of his mouth lifted when inquiring, and he might have just caught her off guard. Ava chuckled nervously, glaring at the next stop sign.  
  "Not only that. I was arrested in Virginia."   
  "Don't leave me in the dark about the story behind that. Oh, dear..."  
  "It was a passion crime! I wasn't headed anywhere in particular, had just gotten a new car and left home. It happened on the highway to Raleigh, a nice day, sun's been shining and Britney Spears played on the radio. I hit the gas. The sirens didn't really go along with my music, but first I thought it's part of the song, hah... Next thing I know is I'm standing next to my car, hands cuffed and the fat cop behind me talked to his partner over mobile radio, no, he was screaming ' _105 miles per hour, man! One! Hundred! And! Five!'_ The limit was 65, by the way, but I thought the road is empty so I'm giving it my all."  
  "I take it you were proud of yourself." Its spoken with a serious tone, a grin giving Stefano and his irony away.  
  "Wait, its gonna get better than that! I figured that pride was not the best option in that kinda situation, and unlike usual I kept quiet. The cop wanted to get me straight to court, mugshot and all, but I somehow got out of it with a yellow piece of paper. On the summons he had circled ' _105 miles per hour_ ' and _'reckless driving by speed'_. All written in red letters. Was now the time for pride? No." Ava laughed a little.   
  "I thought it's all gonna be okay, you know? I would just face court, pay, and go about my life. But, uh... Lawyers love to make you panic over literally anything, and sent me letters saying ' _You appear to have a problem.'_ That's how they get new clients, apparently. Each mile over 90 makes one day in jail, and it dawned on me that, worst case, I might have to spend 15 days in jail. It was no longer a funny story. Next I got me a lawyer, paid maybe 400 dollars per hour for his service and I was hopeful again, he was a professional. Though the day we arrived at court and I saw people with like, 93 or 96 miles per hour not leaving the room, just their lawyers looking kinda beaten down, I got scared. 105 miles!"  
  "What about the accused?"  
  "There's only two doors. One straight to jail, the other back to freedom. You can just take one of them, and the decision isn't up to you."  
  "America is insane," he says, "Truly insane."  
  "Aren't you glad you're here? Anyway, it seemed hopeless for me to ever get out of this building, might as well just face my fate. But my lawyer did a great job defending me, said what a good person I am, talked about where I'm from, all of this stuff and apparently he was defending a lot of the other people in the room with us during their divorce. Lucky me got out of it with a steep fine of over a thousand dollars. Since then, though, I still like to drive a little faster but I flinch at any police car."

  "I will remind you to take care when I am in the car with you, but perhaps someday I need to get you out of jail." Voice sounded fearful until words turned into a laugh.  
  "Hah... I promise I'll try to be good."  
  "Please do. I need to have you around."


	17. Chasing Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all good things have to come to an end.

"Okay. Just because it's you," Ava told him with her hand taking his, "And because I need you, too."  
  "Not only because I would get you out of jail if I ever had to?"  
  "...I shouldn't have told you about it, Stefano." At the next red traffic light she bent over to kiss him, reassurance and care in her actions and how lips lightly brushed along his own.  
  "I really don't want today to end," she confessed then, "And I... do feel bad about a few things. I'd like to forget them."  
  "Well, it does not have to end yet. I could _make_ you forget." Despite the seriousness of previous situations concerning these phone calls and her tears back in the hotel, if she wanted to forget about it then he will lend a hand in that. Two hands, if Ava desired. His tone was of quiet sensuality, promises attached to meet any need.  
  "I'm gonna remind you of that soon," her cheeks turned a slight pink in the dim lights, "I had something else in mind, though."  
  "Do you think I can wait for a _soon_? Hm, what are you thinking of?"  
  "I'd love it if you could take more pictures of me tonight. We can get us something to eat and head out for your studio. I might need some coffee, too..." No matter how he looked at it, Ava sounded uncertain and shy, as if she expected him to be able to decline such a proposal. Beaming, of course Stefano agreed.  
  "Ah...How can I say no?"  
She smiled, eyes sparkle from excitement. "What would you like to eat, then?"  
'You' came to his mind, but it may not be right to say that now. "...Japanese maybe. Takeout."  
  "Okay! I know a good place."  
  "Mind the speed limit."

Supplied with coffee and sushi they made their way to Stefano's studio, no trouble finding a space to park the car. Around this time no one would be in the building, Stefano thought, good in case things got ... loud.  
  "I've lost my way the last time I was here," Ava said sheepishly, "And couldn't really bring myself to ask anyone."  
  "You will stay with me this time, so you need not worry." The man sounded sure about it, although memories left a bitter taste in his mouth. For what reason Ava meant to say that to him he doesn't know, for little time thought she intended to blame him, make him feel bad.  
  "Today is different," Ava assured with a crooked smile, "I know better."  
Stefano unlocked the door and let Ava get inside first, had completely forgotten about not cleaning up the place last time. It smelled like cigarettes and caffeine. Before he even thought about uttering an apology, Ava had gone to open the door to the balcony, letting in fresh air. "It's pleasant outside, come to me." He saw her sitting on the ground once out, that little tray in one hand, fumbling with chopsticks in the other.  
  "Mind if I join you?"  
  "Not at all! I've kept that place free just for you." Stefano sat down on the ground right next to her, legs crossed and leaning against her body.  
  "Who thought that coffee and sushi make a good combination..." Stefano said, picked up the first roll, mouth still tasting like coffee and sugar.  
  "Hey, I didn't think you would want one, too. You could have ordered... Sake or something."  
  "Alcohol does not go well with my plans, as sad as that is."   
  "What, do you get funny when drunk?" Ava seemed amused by the thought of it.  
  "Bold of you to assume I am not always funny."  
  "Right, right," a break, for her to swallow that bite, "I'm gonna take you on a night out drinking sometime. In vino veritas."  
  "This will be a rather short night since I have not been drinking a lot for years. What is it you want to hear me say while drunk?" He gave half a smile, continued eating while Ava thought about it.  
  "Whatever there is on your mind that you don't usually speak of. No matter what it is. Could be dirty."  
  "It most certainly is. But alcohol is not needed to make me say _those_ things."  
  "And yet you're still holding back." How hard Stefano might try to keep thoughts a secret, not speaking what was actually on his mind so many times, Ava rendered it useless in this exact moment. Call it female intuition or the fact that, when passionate, Stefano was not as hard to read as he liked to believe. 

With trays and cups empty, both Ava and Stefano sat alongside each other on the balcony for a while. She held both his hands, caressing each finger with hers, painting invisible lines upon skin that gradually warmed up, until Stefano would lift her hands to his mouth for a kiss. One kiss became many more, slow, tender. Ava comes closer to him, shoulders touching, his kisses sending delicate shivers down her spine and she used the time where he closed his eye to intertwine digits, adding her lips to his. Gentle as ever, skin upon skin. She felt him breathe out, a sigh from within his throat urged her to deepen their kisses; lips parted, noses bumping softly when she tilted her head to the side only a little. Ava pulled away but Stefano followed. Eager, doesn't allow it to stop so soon, takes his hands from her grasp placing both on the sides of her neck, thumbs underneath cheeks. She may have said he did not speak his mind so often, yet surely he did his best to show.  
  "We had..." Ava attempts to speak in between kisses, causing him to prolong each, "Plans."  
  "Mhm." Simply a moan she receives as an answer. He's aware, of course. Could not wait, thought he would use the time she prepared to work on the photos he had taken today... Instead, Stefano was adamant to not let go of her that quickly; she started it.  
Her teeth dug into his lower lip, not using any force yet it was enough to make him flinch. Triumphant Ava appeared looking at Stefano now, surprised he did not use it as an excuse to continue down that path.  
  "Your bites are butterfly-kisses. _Delicate._ "  
  "The next time it will sting, Stefano."  
For short his grip on her body tightened, anticipation guiding him. "Can you promise it will?"  
Ava gave him a wonderful smile before she stood up giving him a nice view from his position; she plays around right to his tastes.  
  "Later, maybe? Definitely later."  
  "Let me remind you, then," he began, getting up to his feet, "You can take your time getting changed and preparing. I want to start processing the photos from today first."  
  "Oh, really? I can't wait to see them!"

After Ava had trouble letting Stefano go about his task, holding onto him to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, lips ghosting over his skin, he found it a lot harder to focus with his thoughts rampaging and wandering from gentle to fierce; back and forth between seeing Ava cry in front of him and Ava begging him to go deeper. Once concentrating on his photographs, though, mind had found a state of rather constant tranquility. In the red light of the room reality warped around him, stopped time and space evoking a feeling of disconnection between him and the rest of existence. Stefano studied the photos on film before processing them, tried to figure out if he wanted to keep them all or would discard a couple of them--- but was that even a question? He will keep every single one, the first pictures he had taken of Ava deserved to be developed and toned rather than he forced himself to decide between just one or two.   
Around twenty had to be processed in total before he could print them later. There was no chance Stefano will get around to do it all in one night, so the decision is made to continue tomorrow with printing.  
While he was busy, he could hear Ava cursing from outside the room, and then, grabbed by fear first, he called out to her.  
  "What happened?" Another phone call? More messages? He couldn't leave the room now, and she couldn't come in without too much light getting inside.  
  "I ripped my clothes...!" He breathes out. Relieved.  
  "So that means I do not get to do it?"  
  "No! This dress came eighty dollars, I wouldn't have let you!"  
  "Shame..." Last word's but a murmur, not true disappointment in his voice. "Give me five more minutes and then you can come in, Ava."  
  "I can't. I'm naked."  
  "Oh. You are not convincing at all, you know?"  
  "I'm only saying this because you can't get out of this room until you're finished. There's some raw power in knowing that!"  
  " _Four minutes._ "  
She said no more, and he couldn't get that grin from his lips no matter how hard he tried. Pictures Ava had taken did not exactly help Stefano to collect himself, seeing them now on the film for the first time, despite still not printed and therefore too small, they riled him up the longer he looked at them.

  "You can come in now, Ava." Carefully he placed the photographic film back on the countertop, heard the door open behind him then and a stream of bright light flooded the room.   
  "I've found the bathrobe. See?" He turns around to look at her, unbearable the distance between them. Ava had the white robe, red in this light, wrapped loosely around her body. She wore her hair down, fine curls fell over shoulders reaching past her stomach, but truly captivating was how she looked up at him under long eyelashes; make-up done better than Stefano could have managed. He was not given time to compliment her, Ava loosens the knot and lets the robe slide down her shoulders, exposing, _presenting_ herself.   
  "I had it with me two days ago, too. How does it look?" What she was wearing barely covered up anything; the fabric's color he could not quite tell in the red light, it appeared only black to him. You could see her skin through the thin fabric of the bra, and looking further down he found it was not much different with the slip; thin stripes perhaps meant to cover skin, but did a bad job at it--- not that he would complain. The stripes went along and down her thighs attached to long stockings.   
  " _Exquisite._ " He drew closer, bent down--  
  "No kisses, you would smudge my make-up."  
  "...you enjoy that, do you not?"  
A wink he received in response, nothing more. How cruel...  
  "Show me how far you've come with the film!" Ava is beaming. So beautiful the way she smiled, how she pulled the bathrobe around her again. And she knew exactly what she did to him.  
  "You cannot see much yet. It will be finished tomorrow, if I get around to do it." Stefano picked up the film, pulled out only the first couple of rough pictures from the roll to show Ava the few she had taken, too.  
  "Who knew self-portraits could be so lewd," Ava chuckled, "Maybe it's just because you are in it."  
  "Literally, mh?"  
  "I would have taken way more, if you had let me."  
  "The chance will come," Stefano promised, "For now it is your turn to pose."

Without much thought for possible consequences and what she might do to Stefano with it, Ava got rid of the bathrobe and every move from her felt like teasing. Stefano does not comment on it. Sure she might say more to frustrate him, if it was not enough to forbid kisses she would deny touching her as well; luckily for him that he will need to do so from time to time between photos. _It is necessary,_ Stefano would tell her, _and perhaps a bit to my personal pleasure_. Words spoken in his head let Stefano stop and ponder her reaction...  
  "How do you want to start, Stefano?" He stood, fingers tapping the camera in his hands and until then he hasn't said a word.  
  "Sorry," he straightened his back, a line between his brows, "Lie down, close your eyes and I'll do the rest. Keep them closed until I tell you."   
Ava does as he instructed, walked to lie down with the paper-wall behind her much too bright for her eyes; they close, and Ava listens to the shuffling of his clothes when he walked, each step whether far or near. Aside from this the room was quiet, much too cold for her to wait on the ground.  
  "I am terribly sorry that the first bouquet of roses you get from me is a fake one," he spoke while placing it in her arms, "You still need to be cautious with the thorns."  
  "Okay."  
Next he lays a sheet of white silk over her, legs first so not to startle Ava, then pulls it up her body to stop just beneath her collarbone.   
  "Put your head up a little," Stefano uttered with a soft voice, "I have to reach your hair."  
He continued, announced every single step, and took his time when executing them. By then Ava had begun to tremble a little, the silky fabric covering her body fully now did not make it easier for her to stay warm.   
  "I'm almost done."  
  "You will have to warm me up later, so take your time."   
_Good point_ , he thought, had to chuckle and honestly considered to progress even slower, perhaps until she complained and asked Stefano to either carry on or quit completely--- actually, that last option doesn't sound good at all.   
He touched her body through the silk, telling her to release the tension of muscles in arms and legs and move along with his motions while changing her position; legs lightly bent in the knees, arms crossed above her stomach holding the bouquet of roses, her long hair spread behind her head.   
  " _Perfect._ " 

The first photos he had taken not changing the setting once, only the angles. Ava didn't move in the slightest, remained as Stefano placed her the way he wanted it. How her chest rose and fall he could see, and had watched her breathing for a good minute, idle,  camera in his hand waiting. Too caught in the moment, words hard to pick and his actions by now sluggishly, Stefano brought himself back to reality where Ava was freezing and he did not want her catching a cold.  
  "Open your eyes, and stretch a little." As if a huge weight fell from her, Ava sighed loudly and removed the fabric when she stretched, roses on her stomach and fingers showing marks of the thorns Stefano warned her about. Hearing his camera click, Ava turned to look at him with the corners of her mouth lifted into a little smile, sleepy but still tender.  
  "...keep looking at me like this."  
She moved between shots, Stefano not saying anything against it. It was her turn to pose, to mess with him, to play games. Getting to her knees, hands placed on the back of her head stretching her body, Ava doesn't waste a minute and not a single photo without changing the position ever so slightly. Stefano didn't realise he had come closer each shot until she was able to reach around his waist.   
  "Don't hold back, Stefano."


	18. Masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heated and then they turn... quiet.

No kindness, nothing gentle laid in his touches, they were impatient and desperate, leaving red lines on her skin, making her gasp. Nails dig deep into the muscles of her back along shoulder blades and ribs, feeling each of them, feeling her breathing become frantic and how he reached for her hips was euphoric, a feeling soon evolving into frenzy when Stefano kissed her mouth and smudged the lipstick. He caught her lower lip between teeth, dragging, biting, inflicting pain to draw these beautiful sounds from Ava that he has been starving for. One of his hands kept her close to him, placed above her spine, fingers digging, the other forced its way between her legs in front, pushing aside the stripes that bothered him for quite a while; running a single finger between folds he felt how wet she's gotten, how needy, and he pushed a finger inside the next time he bit into her lips before mouths parted and Stefano looked down into Ava's eyes. Without shame she moaned at him, her breath fanning over his skin, dark brown eyes half lidded and glistening. 

The finger would push deeper, crooked to feel how she clenches, how her legs trembled around his wrist trying to keep him there. Stefano added a second finger, both sliding in and out unbearably slow, thumb gliding in circles around her clit. Ava moved both her hands underneath his shirt, fingertips so cold on his skin that he draws in a sharp breath; much to her delight. She's grinning, hands run up his chest and over hard nipples to see him lose what little he had left of self-restraint and composure. Eyes darkened and dangerously so, the fingers inside her thrusting faster, harder, as deep as they could reach. Her head fell against his chest, above her hands that began to tremble and eventually stopped stroking him; Ava breathlessly begged Stefano not to stop. 

He felt that his pants had gotten tighter, confiding and bothersome, but did not have a free hand to take care of it. The way Ava held onto him she wouldn't get around to do it, either; he'll go crazy...  
  "Ava," voice but above a whisper, "Help me out a bit."  
  "No." The way she said it, the way she declined him, it drove him over the edge and forced him to forget that she previously asked him not to stop. Stefano pulls back, brought cold distance between their bodies. Ava whined, reached for him.  
  " _No_ you say... It was not a question, Ava." She was weak in her knees, stumbled a bit trying to get closer to Stefano again, her cheeks flushed and he knows she's _hot._

  "Please," she whispers, her eyes betrayed how good Ava could play him, and she was wonderfully aware of it, "Don't stop touching me. I need your hands on me." Word after word she would whisper, breathes them out to hit every sensitive spot he had ever revealed to her. She comes closer and this time Stefano wouldn't stop her hands on him as they wandered down his body, halting at the belt to open it. He watches, his heart kept missing beats.  
  "It feels so good when you touch me, when your fingers are inside me. I wish you hadn't stopped... getting me so wet just to leave me cold again..." She tugged his pants down including underwear with a rather harsh motif, the gaze she gives him no longer sweet and teasing.  
  "You should have just let me come on your hand, Stefano," her fingers barely touched the tip of his cock, not enough to satisfy him, "Now you're craving my hands on you."

  "I know you can not resist, Ava." However sure Stefano sounded about that, deep inside he was uncertain it would be enough to get her to submit. The thought was intriguing, thrilling the promise of her taking over him completely. Long gone that angelic innocence of Ava begging Stefano for more and in this moment he craved her wildness, her dominance, her power.  
  _"Watch me."_

Her movements betrayed no impatience, not hesitation in how Ava pushed him to his knees with her hands on his shoulders. His gaze had not left her eyes for a split second, admiring how determined she appeared, every touch without a single word of warning left Stefano breathless. Ava caressed shoulders and neck, thumb runs up Stefano's throat, chin and mouth where she let it slide over his lower lip; as per instinct he opened his mouth a little, allowing himself to poke his tongue against her skin.  
She bent his head back more, her other hand buried in black hair and Stefano expected her to pull him back with this, but the sensation didn't come; Ava rather took a step forward, legs no more quivering for him, not spread for him. Still she messed with his lips, let him kiss her thumb, granted Stefano to join in the game she plays while she makes it clear that he won't have any control. 

His lower lip was pressed down gently, almost lovingly. All this time Stefano kept hands to himself, curled into fists to rest atop knees, but he was _aching_ , felt his erection throb between his legs.  
Ava knew what he wanted. Had seen how his left hand slowly moves to touch himself, and he had barely reached his cock when she stopped his arm from moving; puts her leg between his arm and body which left him no choice but to hold onto her instead.

  "Don't you dare, Stefano," she warns, thumb pushing inside his mouth, "Can't you wait?" Ava doesn't expect an answer, did not mean it as a question either, kept his tongue down with her thumb and felt his moans, voice deep and thick with lust, with frustration.  
She took her hand away from his mouth, laid both on his warm cheeks and Stefano had the desire to speak to her, to be provocative, say anything that tickled out more of her greed, her appetite---  
Stefano would not get to say a single word so soon again, though. Ava spread her legs above him, pulled his face close to her. It was him who tucked aside the stripes, who looked up at her while his tongue lasciviously licked skin without causing more arousal. A gasp from Ava he had gotten with this, her eyes closed for a second.

  "Show me what your mouth is good for." Her words brought Stefano to straighten his back, to breathe in before his fingers spread her wide open and his tongue teased her clit, though from this position he couldn't reach further. She wasn't convinced by how slow he worked his tongue, by what little contact she felt.  
  "Lie down, Stefano. _Now_." 

With surprise he looked at her, didn't dare ask what he's done wrong, what she wanted from him in the first place; but Ava doesn't appear to be happy, the spark in her eyes fiery and thrilling. She came down above him, pinned him to the ground and gently sat on his chest. Stefano doesn't move his hands anywhere yet, waits for her next move in anticipation, his heart pounding fiercely within his chest and he was sure she could feel it. He watches as Ava comes up higher, her knees next to his head, her fingers spreading her pussy wide above his mouth.  
  "Make me come on your face."  
Stefano inhales. Opens his mouth, licks his lips before she lowered down on them and he picks up a cruel speed. Shaking, moaning and crying out, Ava doesn't get the chance to move at first, he clearly had the control over her again despite his position; sucking her clit and fucking her with his tongue while Stefano holds on to her trembling legs.

  "Stefano, _oh_... Don't stop, _please,_ don't you stop...!" He wouldn't _think_ of it. She began to move on him, dragged herself over his mouth down to his chin again and again, accompanied by moaning and soft begs until she allowed him to continue on his own behalf; Ava took his hands, had lost control over herself and motions, held onto Stefano until he could feel her convulsions, her juices dripping onto his lips and tongue. His fingers stroked her tenderly, allowing her to ride out her orgasm and to fall back into regular breathing--- tentatively he licked between her folds a few times, tried to see if she would melt even more for him.  
  "No, no, no, oh God, I---" She tried to get away, needed distance, but Stefano held onto her hips now and managed to switch their positions, face still between her legs and his tongue flicked without pause. Ava tried to sit up and wanted to push him away, couldn't take any more of this without crying out to Stefano, this wasn't what she planned on doing, this wasn't what she had wanted _but it's so much better_ \--- she comes a second time, released all the tension Stefano built up in her and something was... _different_. She felt liquid squirting from her vagina, not much but enough to startle Ava, to make her whine during the last bit of climax. Breathless but utterly satisfied, Ava sat up with a slight quiver, and she saw Stefano wiping his forehead and brows.  
  "You _definitely_ came on my face, dear."  
   
Stefano closes the distance between their lips, kisses Ava eagerly and doesn't waste a second without stroking her pussy, makes her moan into his mouth with each touch. Still so sensitive, still not completely down from her climax, Ava pushed into his hand that teased her, and she held Stefano in her arms.  
Slowly she climbed into his lap with his fingers inside her, lips placing sweet kisses on his cheek and over to his ear where Ava stopped and exhaled softly.

  "I want to be yours," she whispers, sounds sorrowful and he instantly stopped to move, "I don't want anyone else." Stefano doesn't know where this came from, doesn't know if she plays, cannot tell what she felt but it wasn't pure lust anymore. The way she looked down at him left him breathless, broke his heart. Tears shine in Ava's eyes. They don't fall, remain as tiny drops on long eyelashes.

  "You belong to me," Stefano softly speaks without sexual undertones, "I will not let you go again."  
She whispered his name like a prayer, her voice so gentle, dripping sweet like honey. Their lips meet, Stefano feels her hands on either side of his face and the room falls away. Never had he gotten so lost in a kiss before. His heart keeps missing beats and his hands couldn't bring her close enough to him. He could taste her, lipstick and tears, realized he has been starving for such a long time. He had loved before, but it didn't feel like this. He had kissed before, but it didn't burn him alive. All he knows, all he feels, was that kiss and how soft Ava's skin is when it brushes against his, that he had been waiting for a person like her. Her tears dripped down onto his face now and even though Stefano doesn't know what to do to make her smile again, to stop these tears from falling, he tries his best to keep Ava as close as possible until the world around them would explode. 

  "I am sorry," she murmurs against his lips, "I don't want to hurt you."  
  "You never did. Ava, you..."  
  "Please don't let me go," she said, "I don't want to be without you again." Stefano feels uncomfortable chills tingling down his spine. Still does not know what she means, if she means anything at all. If she was just overwhelmed with emotions. Or if Ava was scared of something, of anything or anyone that would dare stand between them, and he doesn't have it in his heart to ask. Afraid that, should he do so now, it might ruin their paradise.  
  "I am here with you," Stefano replied, and did so without much thinking, "You have no need to be afraid." She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his, noses touch softly and her hands so warm on his skin still held him close.  
  "It will be okay," Ava promises, "We will be okay together..." 

Ava's mood lightened with more and more kisses that he gave her, wiping away the tears on her cheeks until the time no more came. They haven't forgotten the position they're in, Ava shifting on his lap so she was able to take his erection in her hand. Words neither of them spoke, no more apologies, no promises. Stefano did not doubt for a second that this was the wrong time to continue, but it would surely be different from before. Haste there is not in movements, neither greed nor hunger when Ava lowered to take him inside her warmth, sat idle to look at Stefano, to kiss him, to feel him. His hands on her hips laid without pressure, didn't force her to move but went along with her slowness instead and he couldn't take his eye off of her. She radiates heat, he feels her heartbeat close to his own, so fast and hard that he stopped and tried to listen between her breaths and quiet moans while she moved on him.

  "I love you, Stefano," Ava adds her lips to his, just for a split second, "I'm not leaving you."  
  _"Ti amo anch’io... Sei tutto per me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on for the next chapter for a translation :') leave me kudos? comments? pweas, im starvinggggg


	19. Ad Mortem Festinamus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am losing every part of myself, slowly, like petals falling from a rose.

She smiled hearing him speak, Stefano sees that familiar and so beautiful sparkle in her eyes again, feeling whole, feeling content. Ava bent down to kiss his lower lip with her eyes open.  
  "Say it again," she said sweetly, "Teach me." Stefano draws in a breath as he felt her body lower down on his length again, digs fingers into hips. Speech came a little breathy, words were moaned.  
  " _Ti amo. Sei tutto per me._ "  
Ava smiled even wider, if possible. Wordlessly her mouth forms what Stefano spoke, her gaze curious and delighted at the same time. Another kiss, then. Her pace continues a little bit faster, she takes him deeper.  
  "Ti amo?" Ava voiced it like a question, unsure if she pronounced it right, but he's chuckling at it.  
  "Do you love me?" Stefano inquired, pushes her down and lifts her up along with her motions.  
  "I do."  
  " _Ti amo_ was perfectly right, then," the corners of his mouth lifted, "Say it again, Ava." How Stefano watches her, the movements of her lips as she tries to speak, the red tint on her cheeks, it must have embarrassed her. Ava tries to repeat it once more, less uncertain, way more heartfelt.  
  "Ti amo," her lips reached his mouth, kissing just the corner, "What was the other part again..?"  
_She knows,_ Stefano thought, _she remembers it, yet wants me to say it again. And I would, as often as possible._  
  " _Sei tutto per me_." He speaks slower, for Ava to catch up, to remember. Her arms around his neck shifted slightly, drawing him closer to her before she breathes in deeply.  
  "Sei tutto per---me." Pretty proud of herself, pleased with the reaction she got from Stefano, Ava allowed him to lay his head in the crook of her neck. A little more practice she may need but Stefano sure doesn't mind helping her learn.  
  "What does it say?" She wanted to know. Caressed his back, fingers brushed down above his spine, coaxing shivers and deep moans from him.  
  "You are everything to me," Stefano mutters and has to hold Ava in place, tension builds up steadily, _"Ah.._." Ava doesn't stop to ride him despite how badly he tried to keep her pushed down on him. She just moved backward with her hips, and in her embrace he's coming undone, the groan stuck in his throat turned into a low cry-out, dissolved into moaning and cursing under his breath about how _fucking good_ she feels, how much more she wanted to take from him---

  Now at least Ava stops, sits on him and had felt him twitching inside, could feel it still. Deep and long breaths Stefano had to take until the end, until release felt a sweet bliss and no longer so terribly intense as in the first moments.  
Stefano forgot about her tears, her worries and sadness. Forgot that he was scared about what there may be on her mind, didn't remember that he wanted to ask when the topic first occured; simply held onto her until the waves of his orgasm washed over him a last time and settled for calmness. Words weren't needed. She knew, too. Kisses the shell of his ear, leans her cheek against it and her fingers were ever restless on heated skin.

Cleaning up their mess wasn't quite as fun as making it. She wiped those white stains mixed with her own liquids off the ground with a slight smirk on her lips, and Stefano ponders if he should ask if something like this ever happened before to her, if anyone was able to make her come like that. He bites it off his tongue, though. Judged from her reaction to it that, no, this must have been the first time and now he's pretty proud of himself.  
Ava got into her dress after that, struggles with the zip at the back, tried to hold the fabric together where she ripped it before.  
  "Do you need my help?" Stefano walked over to her, had put away the roses and silks. Ava sighs in defeat and turned her back to him, tucked her hair to the front.  
  "Yes, please. Although I think its time for me to turn the dress in for repairs."  
  "No, no, save that money. I will see what I can do with it," Stefano offers pulling up the zip, "The split is not so big."  
  "You'll try? Oh, thank you! I love this dress too much to let it go." Stefano brushed back her hair, and took his sweet time with it. Ran fingers through crimson curls, tucked some back in place, twisted strands around his index finger.  
  "What are you doing over there..."  
  "Nothing. Fixing the mess I made, maybe?"  
  "You're making more of a mess, Stefano."  
  "Mhm, got me there. But it is calming to play around with it."  
  "Yeah, for me too, but I can't drive when I'm sleeping, you know..?"  
  "..." A break. He considers. "Fair enough."  
Ava turns around while he still had his hands in her hair, caught him by surprise of her sudden movement. She mouthed a last teasing warning, 'stop that.' and he's letting go hesitantly. Like a child that had to let go of his favourite toy.  
  "Are we ready to leave?" Ava looks around the studio. No traces left behind. Not a hint of what happened, of what they've done. But they know.  
  "I think so," Stefano says and takes her hand, "Its time."

Back in the car it was Stefano who turned the music a little louder, and Ava who tried not to laugh because it was the middle of the night and they had to drive through a quiet neighbourhood on the way back. They would get in trouble. _She would!_ Stefano reached for the buttons then, admitted to his defeat turning down the volume. He took her right hand, insisted he wouldn't think about letting go until they're in bed together; and not even there.  
  "Bad for you, because I have to use the toilet once we arrive," Ava points out, completely serious, "And I'm really not into that kind of thing."  
  "How nice that I get to learn more things about you," came his reply, but he did a poor job staying as serious as Ava was, "Maybe this was not my most romantic idea?"  
  "Oh, what gave it away... You still have to impress me from time to time, romance and all. We've skipped a couple of steps."  
  "No, no, Ava, I asked you out on a date. Even gave you roses. We are holding hands right now. That counts as the first steps, or no?"  
  "I asked _you_ out, Stefano, the roses you have given me were _plastic flowers_ and I didn't even get to keep them! This so isn't the romantic fairy tale I dreamt of as a child."  
  "It is better than that," Stefano says instantly, gently squeezes her hand, "But if you insist, you will have your flowers. Whatever you may ask for."  
  "I... like sunflowers more than roses. And yes, it's better than anything else I could have thought of. I expected none of it, Stefano, at all. Now I want _all_ of it."  
  "I thought roses would fit you better, but if it is sunflowers you want, those you can have," he lifts her hand to his lips, "You have me."  
She parked the car without taking her hand away from Stefano's grasp, and when she turned the keys he pulled her in for a kiss that left Ava gasping. Short, tiny kisses she gets from him after that, the sort of kisses where lips barely touch skin, those that tickle pleasantly and make you smile.  
  "Please, just let me get to the bathroom, Stefano!" Between her giggles and his kisses, he wouldn't think of letting Ava pull away that easy.

Stefano unlocked the door to his apartment, allowing Ava to rush past him into the bathroom. On his way to the bedroom he already undresses, leaving clothes to lay on the floor next to one side of the bed and when he slipped underneath the covers he waits for Ava to join him.  
He reminisces. Calls back to mind all that happened today, the good and not-so-good, her tears and her laugh, words spoken so softly, words like whips and Morphine that turned him on and knocked him down in lustful ways. Caught between it all, the voice of her manager snuck into his mind, icy and sharp, threatening. Threatening her, Ava, the last person on earth Stefano wanted to see crying and scared. What was there for Stefano to do but to wait her situation out if she does not let him have a hand in this? Although after this day he definitely can be sure that Ava was tough, she also was fragile concerning this other man, and Stefano unable to tell why. She could surely find another manager. She would never have trouble to find work...  
Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts then, and Ava's extremely cold hands on his chest helped with that.

  "Hey there," she chirps, "Is it cold here or is that just me?"  
  "You're cruel... I have warm water, too, you know?"  
  "Yeah, that's no fun. I could place them somewhere else to warm up, though."  
  "Oh, do not even think about it!"  
  "Okay. Okay, I won't." Slowly, though, and he felt that chill along with her fingers, her hands crawled down his body--- his muscles tensed, instinctively Stefano grabbed Ava's wrists to stop her, then intertwined her fingers with his.  
  "Your hands are so warm, Stefano." Ava closes her eyes and snuggles close to him, fingers lazily stroking his. "You're warm." Stefano doesn't respond at first. Plays with strands of her hair now and watches Ava's eyelids closing slowly.  
  "Don't stop." Ava's voice was but a whisper, Stefano replied just as quiet.  
  "Never."

Not much later, realization came to Stefano that he had not taken his pills tonight. Again. This wasn't the first time he forgot about them, not the first time he would come to regret it once he fell asleep. He stays in that position, close to Ava and her warmth, listens to her breathing and wishes she had good dreams, unlike himself. For a good couple minutes Stefano contemplated to take his dosage now, risking to get up way too late the next day. The last thing he wants is for Ava to witness his nightmares, and when Stefano thought back at the last time she was beside him as it happened, the artist also does not want this to turn into sex. How should he have told Ava, though? Unaware of Stefano's medication, on top of that the issues he has, Ava deserved to know at least parts of it, right? He cannot imagine that she would ever shun him for it, think badly of him for something he doesn't have a hand in. Stefano forbids himself to call back these other so vivid images from his dreams, cruelties he still hasn't figured out how to deal with... Knives, blood, tears. Once you try not to think about something, of course this is the time you will. Forcing them away did not work for Stefano, and the man finds they had become... more thrilling. Good a knife feels in his grasp, exciting the sight of blood and gore, loud screams such a turn-on... 

Abruptly Stefano moves his hands away from Ava, brings distance between his body and her sleeping frame, afraid and ashamed and he notices he was shaking, must have fallen asleep for mere seconds. No longer he would contemplate if it was okay to risk sleeping in or not. Stefano gets up from the bed, as silent as could be, sneaks on tip-toes out of the bedroom and manages to get through the dark hallway into the kitchen. Fetched himself a glass of cold water, opens the drawer with the tube of pills and let one plop onto his hand. Stefano never saw taking them as an issue before. Why now? Why now, where he desperately needs them? 

The pills tastes bitter on his tongue, quickly he empties that glass, fills it up again. The strange taste remained no matter how much he drank, it's been three glasses of water and Stefano still did not feel any better. He began to freeze, yet couldn't move. Stood with that empty glass in his hand, mind spinning with pictures, a vortex of emotions. So often did Stefano promise Ava to stay by her side, swore to himself that he would do what he can to keep her safe and sound. _You will never be alone,_ he thought, _it is all that I know. As if she had to ask..._ Stefano knows things can change, but wants her to know that she would not have to worry about him leaving her side, no matter what was to occur. Stefano doesn't know how to fix the situation with her manager, if this man's threat was serious or not, yet the artist felt in his veins what he would be capable of if someone else laid just a finger on Ava.  
One question he was unable to answer, searches for a solution since the topic arose. _What would I do if she was ever to learn about the things I dream of?_

Stefano heard a door being opened, the noise sounded like it came from far far away. Another reality between dark wings and hurricanes, somewhere there he must be trapped with a glass in his hand unable to find the way back to his body.  
  "Stefano?" So quiet that voice sounds, so weak. He would recognize it anywhere, though. Felt her touch on his arm and slowly, ever so slowly, Stefano was falling back into a reality where he was vulnerable.  
  "I..." Speaking was difficult. What was he supposed to say?  
  "Are you okay?" Her voice came a little closer to him with every uttered word, a stream of bright light in the darkness he was in.  
  "..." _No,_ Stefano wanted to say, _I'm not_.  
  "Stefano?" His mouth opened only a little before it closed again, and so does his eye. He thought he was back... Stefano thought he was safe...  
The woman touched his shoulders, applied pressure to muscles and tendons, tried to no avail to pull him in.  
  " _Stefano!_ " Water was running in the distance, her voice came from underneath. An ice cold pain follows, stings on his skin, his eye, droplets of liquid running down his face. Glass shatters. 

  "Can you hear me..?" Ava held a cloth soaked with cold water to the right side of Stefano's face, stood between shards of glass and he expected to see something akin to fear in her eyes but there was... determination, affection. Ava looked at him as if he was the most precious being on this world. Looked at him as if she cared for him. Actions and words proved so.  
  "Yes. Yes, I... can," Stefano spoke, "What happened?" He doesn't remember. Felt only coldness.  
  "You... didn't react when I talked to you. Just stood there. Staring at nothing."  
  "I did?" All he wanted was to get some water.  
  "You did." She lowered the cold cloth, wiped his face before putting the cloth away. "Are you feeling...okay?"  
  "I don't know."  
Now there was worry in her brown eyes, darkened them and it made Stefano feel guilty. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was not supposed to place more and more weight on her shoulders. "Maybe... just.... sleepwalking," he continues, and quickly so, "Felt thirsty."

  "...Are you sure?" Her gaze wanders over the pills on the counter, then to the shattered glass on the ground. She inhaled deeply, exhaled against his chest. It felt way more pleasant than the coldness from before.  
  "You should go back to bed, Ava. I didn't drink anything yet--"  
  "You had the glass in your hand, Stefano, half filled..."  
  "I did?" He searched for the glass, found only the sleeping pills standing there. He intended to take a step forward when Ava stopped him.  
  "Wait, no, there's glass everywhere! That... was my fault, I think." A thin line appears between his brows seeing her pick up the pieces one by one. Stefano didn't ask why he dropped it, can only remember hearing the sound of breaking glass and coldness on his skin.  
  "Its all good, Stefano," he heard Ava say, "You're fine." Carefully she places the pieces on the counter. In the corner of his eye Stefano saw her reaching for the pills, reading their dosage and name. Embarrassment crept inside his chest, constricted his heart. Her eyes wandered from left to right, blinked, she must be searching for words, for anything to say to him that could reassure Stefano, something that would not make him feel worse. 

  "Did you take one already?"  
  "No." Or has he?  
  "I... its... a little late, but... you could sleep in tomorrow, and..."  
  "Just go back to bed, please."  
  "...okay." His attempt to stop her from worrying and not to give her another burden to carry for him must have failed miserably. Her gaze escaped his and Ava said no more, left the kitchen without insisting to stay with him.

A new glass was filled with water, and finally Stefano took a pill to help him sleep without nightmares. It left a bitter taste on his tongue, remained even after the second glass of water. When he placed it into the sink, he saw a few left over shards laying on the ground, had to stop and wonder what happened before he seemed to have dropped it. Exhaustion, perhaps? The man felt dehydrated, too, despite the feeling in his stomach that he's been drinking too much. He decides against another glass, instead goes back to the bedroom where Stefano found Ava curled up on the left side of the bed, blankets covering her almost completely. He may not completely understand what brought her to startle him with a cold cloth, fully knows though that he did wrong by sending her away like this.  
He hurries to lay back down in bed beside her, crawls closer while dragging the sheets over his body by now freezing cold and toes numb.

  "Ava..?" The bundle that was her didn't respond. She looks cozy, Stefano muses. Maybe she's already asleep, and he wouldn't want to wake her up again.

 

The next morning wasn't actually a morning anymore. Stefano woke with a groan, stretched arms and legs thoroughly. He felt ten years older and still beyond exhausted. The sun shining in through the window... wasn't supposed to be on this side of the house. How long has he been sleeping!? Legs may feel weak, but had enough power to get Stefano out of bed with hurry, he searched for clothes from the ground and did not care at all if they reeked of smoke, he could get changed later.  
Pulling down the shirt he noticed that the bed was empty. 

  "Ava?" The door to the hallway was open, if she was here she should hear and answer him, but nothing happened. Stefano called for her again, left the bedroom in hopes of finding her in the balcony, cigarette in hand and door closed behind her so she wouldn't have heard him... 

She wasn't on the balcony. Ava left without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Here I come with angst! You may want to check out my blog on tumblr!? I changed my URL to @valentinistefanos where u can find a WHOLE TAG filled with stuff for Paradise City, also links to playlists on YouTube and spotify in the description! You don't need a tumblr to access my blog! It'd be really nice if you took the time to check out some of the things I've made for Paradise City! Thank you so so much for over 300 hits and all the nice words ♡


	20. Snuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was the definition of 'Art' again?

It took him time to realize. To find that she had left without saying a word, to see no traces of her left behind around the apartment, nothing except the sheets she slept under. It took him time to feel something, too. When Ava's words echoed in his ears, of her asking Stefano not to let go of her, promised her not to do so. He broke the promise without having a hand in it, so who is to blame?  
The rational part of his brain, much too quiet and meekly talking, was certain that she had something to do and had no time telling him about it. He was fast asleep. Ava tried to wake him, and he didn't react. Maybe.  
That other piece of Stefano that wasn't as weak, not so silent anymore and fiercely honest, brutally cruel and spewing doubts, tells him Ava left because he messed up. Again. Because he shut her out, pushed her away while Ava tried to help and get through to him.  
He stands in the hallway, clothes smelling badly of nicotine, the stench surrounding him. Ten minutes passed. Not one inch he moved until he thought, what if she left a message for him? How late is it, anyway..? He searches for the mobile phone, unsure where he saw it the last time... though Stefano found it in a pocket of his jacket, he stared at the dark display without pressing a button. Heartbeat's hard in his chest, too loud for his ears.

_[msg received 07:43a.m. > Ava W.] Good morning! I tried to wake you up to tell you I'm leaving, but you're a heavy sleeper. I left to have a talk with my manager & I'll probably be back later._

The weight should have fallen from his chest, yet didn't. It was three in the afternoon, and this was the only message Ava left him, no missed phone calls, nothing. There is no chance Stefano slept that long and to still feel this exhausted, not rested at all as if he pulled and all nighter. Memories of the last night were a little clouded, certain parts blurred after he took the pill. No nightmares Stefano remembers, though, which he counted as a victory.  
He's had plans for today. Now today was almost over, Stefano unable to get very far like that unless he'll work until late at night again and once Ava was back he wouldn't exactly want to sleep in the first place.

_[msg sent 03:23p.m. > Ava W.] Please tell me you are okay._

A while he waited for her reply that didn't come. Not wanting to panic, text her or call her, he needed to keep his mind busy in other ways instead letting it dive into worrying. She's fine, right? She would have told him if she wasn't. Right?

Right..?

A shower was needed, long and cold to wash away what's left of exhaustion, after that despite the time of day, coffee and cigarettes. On the balcony, though, that stench of cold ash and smoke lingered in the living room and Stefano absolutely despised it. The mobile phone Stefano kept in his hand, waiting on edge for a phone call or text, does not admit it to himself but he's desperate to hear anything from Ava.  
Upon lighting the second cigarette in a row, Stefano curses in his head about what big of an idiot and coward he was.

_[msg sent 04:26p.m. > Ava W.] I'm worried._

_Oh God_ , he thought, _don't do this to me_. She has been gone for hours without a response, had Stefano feeling helpless and--- afraid. Keeping himself busy to escape malicious thoughts does not work if he kept clinging to his phone like that. _She's okay_ , Stefano tells himself, _she's busy and I should be, as well._ He put the phone away into a pocket next to the box of cigarettes before leaving the apartment headed for his studio.

Once there, Stefano felt something hanging above him, something from another, distant world. The knowledge of what happened in the studio last night, what Ava said, what he said. It all mixed together, blended into emotions suffocating and heavy, her words sounded different to him today with a mind not clouded by lust. Numb Stefano feels then, once the memories washed over him. She asked for forgiveness. She asked him not to leave. Stefano sees it in a different light, finally caught up to what he thought of it hearing her speak those words the first time.

She is in danger.

She is scared it would drag him down, too.

Why didn't he ask sooner, when Ava was still around to answer?

Stefano takes his phone, calls Ava while pacing around the studio aimlessly, hearing it beep, waiting forever for her to pick up. She didn't. And he tried again and again, every time his motions became more frantic, limbs shaking and fingers sweating. After the tenth time of Ava not answering, Stefano was adamant about searching for her address back in the texts she sent yesterday, though once he scrolled back up, Ava called. Stefano inhales sharply.  
  "What are you doing!?" Stefano did not mean to raise his voice, did not mean to sound so cold and harsh. She hesitated to answer, and Stefano immediately felt ashamed.  
  "I'm working," she said in a monotone voice, "My manager insisted."  
  "You said you would talk to him, not that you had to work today."  
  "He insisted."  
  "...where are you?" His voice changed to be softer, but hers did not. Cold, empty. Just words.  
  "At work. Why are you asking again? Why do you want to know? I don't ask where you are."  
  "I... What?"  
  "I don't think I'll come over today, I would have told you when I had the time, but the phone kept buzzing and he was annoyed with me. Sorry I didn't get to tell you sooner."  
  "Are you serious?" He felt feverish, uncomfortable in his own skin, her words hurt like lashes of a whip.  
  "Yeah. I have to catch up. I'm gonna tell you when I have more time."  
  "Ava, why can you not---...I would be waiting tonight, no matter how long you take, why don't you---"  
  "I don't have the time, okay? He won't let me skip any more of the deals he made all by himself. It's difficult."  
  "No, it is not difficult. If you are in danger, tell me. I know something is wrong. Ava, I know."  
  "...no. No." He can hear she's trying to keep up the tone, notices she breathes heavily now.  
  "Ava! You wanted me to promise you, that---"  
  "I am sorry." The phone beeped. She ended the call.  
  " _ **NO!**_ " His yell was raspy, throat dry, aching. Hands clenched to fists, he tried forcing the pressure he felt in his thorax down into his arms, terrified it would burst out should it remain within his chest. 

Stefano doesn't know what he did wrong. Keeps telling himself that none of this was his fault at all, that nothing happened. That Ava was fine where she was, only busy. The cold tone she spoke with..? Probably due to stress, perhaps she doesn't want the manager to know about her feelings, maybe she is being professional.

But it hurts.  
And Stefano cannot deal with that.

Difficult it was to calm down, to unclench fists and become soft again. Soft, it meant vulnerable. Vulnerability meant to hurt, to feel everything so deeply without Ava with him to lean on, without her to help him out of this. He needed her, wanted her, immediately and for an eternity, obsessed with the thought of keeping Ava by his side, knowing she could not leave again. Stefano wouldn't let her. Would not let her get hurt either, he needed her whole and safe. He promised! He promised...

_[msg sent 05:54p.m. > Ava W.] You said you do not want to hurt me._

Before thinking about the words he wrote thoroughly, the text was already sent. He stared at the display in wait, full well knowing that Ava would not answer anytime soon. 

He needs to stay busy. Did not want to allow himself to be vulnerable or soft, his mind should be kept from turning toxic, and Stefano came here for a purpose.  
Walking over into the dark room on weak knees he decided to pick up his work from last night, routine of the task sure to catch him and if not there was a bottle of wine somewhere hidden in the cabinet.  
The artist processes the film from yesterday, in the meantime developing the other one as well. It seemed to help him, repeating the same steps for each photograph, hanging them up to dry once enlarged. Was this room even real anymore? The red light, the darkness, the warmth. Surrounding him, enveloping him whole, and while he watched chemicals dripping from the pictures, Stefano realized that he was not at all pleased with how any of them turned out to be. He saw now colors, red and black only, tinted white. He needn't see colors to know they're lacking everything he ever dreamt of, the thrill, the twist, the grotesque.

The blood and the death.

What was the purpose of photography, no, of art, if it did not capture the exact moment innocence turns into horror, where life ends and fades to nothingness? The last drop of blood quenched from arteries, bright sanguine fluid on pale skin painting delicate lines, together with cuts, bruises in between the organized mess. These photos lacked it all. they were not special, just beautiful. Stefano draws in a long breath, supported himself on his hands laying on the countertop, head bowed and eye closed. The woman in these photos is beyond amazing, stunning and able to play with what she has, looks at him as if she could read his mind, as if she knew everything he ever thought of. But perfection? Perfection this was not. Far from it. Images appear inside his head, malignant colors and sounds, a voice that Stefano recognized as his own, sharp as ice and twice as cold.

_"You want it, do you not? The horrified screams, the blood, the terror! Corruption of naivety and innocence, breaking apart what once was whole to make it perfect. What else is art in your opinion? Amateurish photos of landscapes lack the ability to capture your ideas! This is not what you dream of, not what you want. You want to create. To hurt, to see them bleed for you. Frame by frame they will suffer for your art."_

Tears forming in his eye pull Stefano back into the here and now, the dark room where chemicals burnt in his eye and throat. Furiously he wipes those nasty tears, gaze wanders over the photographs hung up before him; no matter how Ava looked at him from them, no matter what she would do, it wasn't enough and never would be. 

_It is not your fault,_ Stefano says to Ava in his mind, _it was always mine._

Creating art meant to suffer.

_But who will suffer?_

 

Thoughts weren't satisfying enough, but actions neither legal nor ethically acceptable. What disgusts Stefano about it all was that he imagined Ava before him, a knife through her ribcage, blood spilling on his shoes. His stomach twists at the imagination. How vivid. How... cruel... He sank down onto the ground, hands on the edge of the counter still trying to hold onto what is left of sanity and reasoning, attempted to hold onto Ava breathing and alive.  
  "Why...?"  
Will the feeling fade? Will the temptation go away? All by itself, if Stefano just sits and waits? There is no real solution. No easy answer. Stefano keeps breathing and hopes that it ends, tried to regain control. 

Minutes go by but the emotions did not. There was nothing romantic about it, nothing sexual. Just horror. The _Carrie and a bathtub of pig's blood-horror._ Sick, but exciting, but so wrong.  
Stefano takes his phone, could need the distraction by just staring at the screen until the brightness would sting in his eye.

_[msg received 07:58p.m. > Ava W.] i love you.  but i cant come to see you. i wish i could. he wont let me, not until its finished. please dont worry about me_

He holds the phone in both hands, pressed it to his chest. Childish the hope it could pick all the pieces of him up and stick them back together with just three words. 

_[msg sent 08:18p.m. > Ava W.] I need to see you. I want to see you, and hear you say it. _

_[msg received 08:20p.m. > Ava W.] i cant. _

_[msg received 08:21p.m. > Ava W.] please wait for me_


	21. Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is the enemy in this?

Two days and nights have gone by where Stefano didn't sleep nor did he eat much. Sleeping alone never bothered him before, but now it does, the man even more scared of spending the night alone vulnerable to horrifying dreams. With the sleep deprivation came intrusive thoughts; they have been there before, yet never so violent. Stefano poorly handled them, submitted to them fully in the dark of the night when the world was quiet around him.  
Ava has neither texted nor called him since the day he developed the photos, and at this point Stefano was too scared of making the first step, or any step at all. Simply kept scrolling through their old texts, smiling sometimes, but not once truly feeling happiness. When things had fallen perfectly into place before, now they are breaking apart one by one with no one watching over them but Stefano himself, although unable to act against it. If he knew a way how to stop it, surely he would have taken it.  
Two days without a single message from her, she feels so far away, out of reach, just never out of mind. Stefano held on to the imagination of Ava, brown eyes and crimson curls, delicate fingers that fit so perfectly between his own. 

Stefano probably should have called her long ago. Waited in agony for her to reach out to him, ignored the pride gnawing at his bones telling him to take measures in his own hands. Stefano believed Ava's words, her promises. Didn't doubt that she was caught up in work. She is safe, he repeatedly told himself. He would certainly feel if she wasn't. Every then and now when scrolling back down the messages, Stefano took a quick glance at the time; he would need to get going soon, had the next appointment with his psychiatrist later that day. Distantly he hoped it could help to sort things out, after all the doctor helped Stefano before despite the artist's doubts. Maybe now was the time to send Ava a message, only to let her know that Stefano was... kind of okay. To tell her where he goes today. Ava didn't know about him being in therapy, and this may not be the best time to tell her, but at least Stefano would not have to say it to her eye to eye. The thought was scary.

_[msg sent 09:58a.m. > Ava W.] I have an appointment with my therapist today, just in case you text and I do not answer. Are you okay? Don't exhaust yourself, I still need you._

Stefano doesn't wait for an answer, instead stands up to get dressed and ready. Even if he felt nasty and strange inside, no one on the streets had to see him carrying it to the outside world where people reacted rather indifferent to anyone displaying vulnerability. A dark hyacinth suit he chose, together with a thin, deep-blue scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn't feel good, but better than before.

The way to Beacon always felt like a walk of shame to him. No matter how many times Stefano would tell himself how stupid it was to see it that way. Today he brought the photographs with him that he's taken, since the doctor insisted he showed him his work.  
  Once inside the building and walking through the dark hallways, he feels exposed again. Like an open book to be read freely. He agreed to those conditions, and is in no place to complain about it; after all, this was the reason Stefano was there in the first place. The artist had to brace himself, needed to take a deep breath before knocking at the office's door.  
  "Come in." He turns the knob, opens the door. Enters the small room with a weak smile on his lips.

  "Good to see you again, Mr. Valentini." Doctor Victoriano's voice was smooth, soft. It did not fit him at all. Stefano sat down in front of the desk, gaze wandering over the doctor's never changing posture and attire, the bandages around his head freshly white but the smell that lingered in the air must be coming from these wounds.  
  "How are you doing?" The recorder clicked.  
  "Well, I... not... good. I feel tired. Exhausted. Kind of drained."  
  "What happened? You did not get any good sleep? Why?" Stefano hesitates.   
  "I talked to Ava, like you proposed. Things went good, no, for a few days perfect even, way more intense than I could have ever imagined. She feels like I do, and we..." Was this the place to feel ashamed? "...had sex."  
  "You've had sex with her." The doctor's demeanor changed, slightly so, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Then he got up, one hand in his white robe probably reaching for something. "You'll excuse me?"  
  "Oh... yes." Doctor Victoriano leaves the office, door slammed shut behind him. Stefsno could hear him talk to someone, on the phone he thought, caught bits and pieces of what he said.  
  "No. You listen to me. You are in no place to disobey me."  
Sounds like trouble. Stefano sinks lower in his seat, hands covering his face. What just happened?  
  "You will come to see me as soon as I am done here. There will be consequences." More Stefano wasn't able to overhear, felt kind of bad for listening in the first place; though, was it his fault that the doctor talked that loud? Sounded this angry? He comes back in through the door, startled Stefano slightly.  
  "I apologise," Doctor Victoriano says, voice sharp, "This was important."  
  "If you have to attend to more important issues, then---"  
  "No. Keep on talking."

  "Things turned messy, and it was my fault. I've been having nightmares again, and... intrusive thoughts. Painful thoughts, violent and--- and frightening. Exciting as well, which is the... scariest part of it all. I took your pills, though, had forgotten about them for a couple of days mainly when she was with me because I considered myself to be alright. I was not, in fact."  
  "You thought being with someone would fix everything wrong? Now, I have not been aware of intrusive thoughts. Do you remember?"  
  "...of course I did not believe that. No... it is different with her. That I believe in. However, yes, I remember. Images and voices that aren't memories, or well, maybe... they are, but from dreams. Nightmares. About... blood and violence."   
  "Can you describe what you see?"   
Yes, but does he want to?  
  "I see... her. Covered in blood. Dead on the floor, still bleeding and..."  
  "Its alright. Take your time."  
  "Ah..." He has to straighten his back, needs somewhere to put his hands so they would not turn into fists.  
  "I am the one hurting her. Killing her." Stefano's voice had gotten quieter. Weak. Guilty.   
  "But do you feel good with those thoughts?"  
  "No. No. I do not. I do not want to hurt her. Where... are these images coming from?" Stefano knows. Had seen them two days ago, too, when studying his photographs. He knows what he wants. He knows what his photos lack. But Ava...?

  "Mr. Valentini, you've seen war. You've lost an eye. Where do you think this comes from?"  
  "...what can I do to make it stop? I want her to be safe." The doctor went quiet for some time. A couple minutes, thinking, not a single expression on his half covered face.  
  "I can propose a couple options, but it will be you who needs to pick what works best. You could end that relationship and work through it by yourself. At least you would be sure not to hurt a bystander," Doctor Victoriano noticed Stefano didn't like that option at all, but kept talking, "Or perhaps force those thoughts into actions, not violence of course, but creation. Fake blood? Make-up effects? I have no clue how this works, but maybe you do better. You are an artist, after all. This may be more suitable for you. If none works? Medication and more diagnostic tests before we continue treatment."

  "Nobody said it would be easy, huh..."  
  "No. None of this is easy for neither involved. You should consider what she feels like. Does she know?"  
  "...she does not. And I did not talk to her for about three days. With what you said, though... I never considered fake blood."  
  "See? That's why I'm here," that grin on his face was terrifying, "What about her?"  
  "I think she is working..?"  
  "Oh. You think?" The doctor had a peculiar way of asking his questions. Most sounded like mocking, and Stefano didn't fancy that at all.  
  "We didn't talk yet. In the beginning I was worried for her, but I figured that doing so was not... helping me much. Now I am sure she is alright."  
  "She probably is," Doctor Victoriano replies almost instantly, "Just wait for a response."  
Stefano exhaled softly, too much input for such a short time. The lack of sleep really got to him now, he had to bite back a yawn.  
  "I will probably settle for the second option over the first. I do not see that as one at all, but I thank you for telling me."  
  "I expected you would. Have you been taking any new photos yet?"

  "Oh... yes," he searched for them in his bag, placed the few on the table for the doctor to see, "There." Ruben Victoriano dragged them closer to his side of the desk, bandaged fingers touching the surface of the first few photos to push them to the side one after one. At Ava he stared for a long time, his chest heaving subtly.  
  "This is her." The doctor spoke, fingertip sliding above her picture before his hand clenched into a fist.   
  "Yes," just the thought of her made Stefano smile, "I need to thank you. You have been a great help when it comes to her."  
  "...you're welcome, Mr. Valentini."

By the time Stefano arrived back at home, he already tried to call Ava several times without her picking up. He thought he could tell her about the appointment from today, this somewhat epiphany. The words from Doctor Victoriano pushing Stefano forward, seen as advice long needed even though the artist has had similar thoughts, yet always laced with violence. That wouldn't be needed, right? If it was possible to get away from the thoughts, Stefano would try to do so, no matter the thrill. Anything to keep Ava from harm caused by his own two hands.  
  Beaten down but not broken by the fact that Ava didn't pick up nor had called back, he thought of other ways of taking photos that did not include her; as sad as that was; but someone else still owed him a favour.   
  He meant to keep this for any other, more pressuring occasion. Wasn't this much like it? Surely she never expected Stefano to reach out again in the first place, it's been a couple of years already and Stefano not the best at keeping in touch with people that...bored him.  
  All that was needed was her beauty, though. He could deal with a boring character for short. He called the number he had saved in his phone, realized that maybe she's got a new one by now, but---  
  "Stefano? It's really you!?" Her voice was annoying, high pitched. He reminds himself that photos are usually... quiet, so it barely matters.  
  " _Bella!_ How are you?"  
  "Surprised? Kinda? I don't know?"  
  "I remembered that you owe me a favour. Do you still live in Krimson? I might need your help, Bella."  
  "Huh? Really? I mean, yeah, where should I be? Haven't been getting much work lately, and you didn't call, so, like, why now?"  
  "I want to work with you again." The way she speaks pains him physically. Obnoxious.  
  " _You!?_ That's great news!! When do you wanna do it?"  
  "...tonight, should you have the time. Do you still remember my studio?"  
  "I be there, yeah! Tonight, like...? Eight? Nine?" _God, please stop talking like this..._  
  "Eight, please. So I will see you then?"  
  "Yeah! I'm excited! This is so sudden!" _Yes,_ he thought, _and I hope I haven't made a mistake with this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think is the enemy?


	22. Your Death Will Be My Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your face is so repulsive when you cry like that," softer he speaks, almost gentle, "Unpleasant like the rest of it. Your fear, though..." So inspiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the graphic depiction of murder and may not be suited for those who are easily disturbed.

  "Bella. You've never had it in you to arrive on time. Some things never change." She came up into the studio twenty minutes later than their promised time, and by then Stefano allowed himself to open that one leftover bottle of wine from the cabinet. Two glasses he drank before the woman arrived, spent thoughts on her willingness to go along with his plans and what other possibilities he may have if she was to decline.  
  "Sorry about that! Couldn't decide what to wear." Bella stood before him in a short white dress cut out in V-shape at the neck, black hair barely reaching past her shoulders. She's smaller than him. Smaller than Ava, too, and by far not as beautiful. She had a round face, big green eyes and thin lips now glossy and red. When Stefano met her studying in the same photography class as he did, surely none of them expected her to try her hand at acting and modeling instead. She's never been good at... most things. So much he had already noticed back then.   
  "It will do," he responds, "White is fine." Boring. Needs more color.  
  "I got no idea what you have in mind, but you know? I'm like, more curious to know where you've been? You don't look so good." She came inside with her purse in both hands, so obviously staring at his right eye that Stefano felt increasingly uncomfortable, averted his gaze then by turning around to get his glass.  
  "I have been on vacation and worked nonstop," he should feel offended, "It is... draining, for sure."  
  "What's with your eye? Come on, I'm curious." Stefano needed to take a deep breath. Then a second one. A third one, barely able to remain collected. She truly felt no shame at all, did not grasp the concept of privacy, did not care either.  
  "You shouldn't ask," Stefano murmurs, "Your curiosity is not my concern." The glass empty in his hand Stefano turns around to look at her, sees her brows furrowed and lips pressed together. "You owe me a favour for getting you through the course."  
  "That... yeah... Okay, tell me what to do." He could feel she wasn't too happy about being here with him now, realized that he was neither up for small talk nor in need of opening up to her, considering Bella has not seen him in years; she has not changed, but Stefano did.   
  And she was scared of that.

  "Are you squeamish? Do you mind fake blood?"   
  "Nah, I don't mind that. This stuff won't get out of my clothes though. Better had told me."  
  "Why? You would not be wearing that dress." She looked at him as if he came from another planet. Completely dumbfounded, thin lips formed a silent ' _What?_ ' and Stefano wonders why she plays stupid with him.  
  "I'm not going to undress! I don't do stuff like that."  
  "You do, Bella, the internet does not forget. Do it again and this time your face will not be seen. Why the shame? I told you," he steps closer, two fingers holding the glass, "You owe me."  
  "This happened years ago! I was young, and---"  
  "What? Needed the money? Women like you always use that excuse." She took a step back and he sees the fear in her eyes, senses the terror. Bella was supposed to be easy, was supposed to play along with her stupidity and desire for attention she always displayed toward him. Stefano's patience was worn out, thin, why doesn't she just do what he says!?  
  "Women like me..?" She took another step back when Stefano came closer, relentlessly. There are no more thoughts behind his actions, blind rage and obsession fueled his motions, caused his pulse to rise and heartbeat to become harder each passing second. She was scared of him. And she should be.  
  "You never knew what to do with that gift you had," Stefano says, "Used me to get through courses so you had more time on your hands for what gave you _pleasure._ "   
  "St---" Bella was caught between muttering his name and begging him to stop, her eyes wide in shock and lips quivering. 

Such beautiful fear...

  "I do not care for your undistinguished, characterless _**DRESS!**_ I will get my photos, one way or another." The woman did not have the chance to escape Stefano's reach, his hands grabbed her wrists pulling her close to him. The wine-glass shattered into pieces at their feet.  
  "If you do not know how to obey, I will _**TEACH**_ YOU!" He forced Bella down to her knees, sees tears in her eyes, leaving black marks of mascara on their way down. "You owe me for what I did for you so you could be a filthy _whore_."  
  "Please, stop! You hurt me!" Between her sobbing, her wailing, it was hard for him to understand thoroughly what she said. It did not matter to him, either way.  
  "Your face is so repulsive when you cry like that," softer he speaks, almost gentle, "Unpleasant like the rest of it. Your fear, though..." _So inspiring._  
  "No, no, no, please!" He held her wrists tight in one hand, the other blindly searched for the sharp pieces of glass on the ground. He probes for the pointy end with one finger then, before Stefano pressed it against the woman's temple. She cried out, moved to the side, a futile attempt at escaping his grasp.  
  "I want you _bleeding._ " The first tiny droplets of blood appeared along the cuts he traced down her temple; Stefano used more strength for deeper, bigger incisions.   
  _More blood!_

Stefano pushes her body down onto the ground, knees cut open by glass, her blood on his hands, the coppery smell ever so intoxicating. In the end he covered her mouth, smeared the lipgloss and blood, cuts down along her neck with special attention to the jugular vein hidden underneath pale skin. Just one deep and rough tug and he would kill her, would see the light fade from her eyes, drain her body of every last drop of blood---  
  " **NO!!"** Did she see it in his eye, his face? The exhilarating experience of this, the undeniable delight he got from the sight of her blood spread across her face and neck, the desire for more? He couldn't ask. Pushed the shard through skin, muscles and teared them open, until a stream of sanguine fluid splashes on his hands, face, clothes--- not a vein. An artery.   
She struggles to breathe, weeps and whines and begs him to stop until her voice slurred and words were no longer coherent.  
  Stefano needed to act, and to act promptly. A bloodied hand grabbed his camera, excitement and heat rushed through his veins when he pushed the button again and again and again, focus on her horribly smeared and ugly face, her eyes rested upon him until the second both fell shut. One last, weak rush of blood drains from the hole when Stefano pulled the piece of glass out, held it in his hand to admire this so little but lethal weapon.  The artist does not stop taking photos. Changed the angle, changed his position from left to right to above her body, her dress which before was so boring he created into a masterpiece on its own, crimson coloured pictures painted on white fabric.  
  "Now we are even, _Bella._ " She ruined his clothes like Stefano did to hers. She just couldn't complain about it anymore.

This sick ecstasy, the flames lapping at his insides, none of it subsides even as the blood dried on her dress and turned into a color less vibrant than red, not dark enough to be considered brown. These last photographs taken did not frame her face. Her hands and arms, her legs, those he captured. Did not even change her position, wanted her frozen like this for the camera.

Stefano got what he wanted. He got what he desired. Held the power in his hands where blood dried upon now, knew where to hurt her to make her scream and beg. He knows after today which spot he has to cut to draw the most blood; should he want a less quick approach to inevitable death, an artery was the wrong choice. But how could he have known? 

One last thing remained. How is Stefano supposed to get rid of this corpse?

Vigorously Stefano tried to get rid of the blood on his hands, washed them until wrinkles appeared on his fingertips, and he tried to do the same with his face. Couldn't see what remained of stains since he had no mirror in the dark room where the only source of water was; and the liquid had long seeped and dried into his jacket, the scarf, shoes. All ruined... he made such a mess... so he decided to undress, to search what clothes Stefano had in store around here. Faintly he remembers a pair of sweatpants somewhere in the small wardrobe, and while he searched for it, the biggest part of his mind was taken in by how to get rid of the woman's body.   
  He may need to cut her into pieces for easier disposal. This thought itself he finds intriguing, he will need to act fast before it decomposes, and truth be told, Stefano doesn't know enough about the process in the first place.  
  Not thinking his actions through better doesn't happen again, perhaps the next time will go... smoother. 

Freshly dressed in clothes free of blood, Stefano checked if there was any left on his face by using the camera on his phone, decided afterwards that he would go home to see how in the world he could get out of this situation. Panicked he felt not. Nor scared or anxious. The warmth was still pleasant, still present, chest swelled with twisted pride and satisfaction. Stefano couldn't wait for the photos.

 

He got home around half past ten, immediately searched for anything around his flat that could help Stefano get rid of the body. Plastic bags he stuffed inside a briefcase, along with the sharpest kitchen knife Stefano was able to find; a meat chopper may look terrifying but was no doubt necessary, or else he had no other way to get through bones. The last thing Stefano adds to the briefcase is a pair of red leather gloves.   
  As far as Stefano knows there aren't any surveillance cameras installed throughout the building, and no security forces at night, either. You needed a key to get inside, the doors were alarmed.  
  He has nothing to worry about.

The doorbell ripped him out of his thoughts. A quick glance to the clock tells him its after ten already, he wonders... inches the door open nonetheless without checking who it may be.   
  His heart missed some beats. _Who else did he expect?_  
  " _ **Ava**_." Her name falls from his lips like the sweetest word known to mankind, but the softness was forgotten quickly, turned into an emotion so vicious and disgusting---  
  "Please... Can I...?"  
  " _Who did this to you? What happened to you?_ " She looked horrible. A busted lip, swollen and bloody, a bruise on the left side of her face reaching up to her brow, dried blood along her hairline. She smelled of blood and sweat and something nasty, something wet and repulsive... Stefano doesn't have it in him to wait for Ava's answer, aimed to pull her into his arms; she threw her hands up in defense, flinched, whimpered.   
  "E-everything hurts... I...I-I...want..." Ava didn't look at Stefano, kept her head low and the marks covered with her hair as she came inside to lean against the wall next to the door.   
  "What happened to you?" Stefano would ask again, stubborn as never before.  
  "My fault," she mutters, "I tried..."  
  "Ava," a growl, "Who did this?" More than a weak sob Ava wouldn't give as an answer. It wasn't enough. He felt increasingly uncomfortable, doubted she would tell him openly what happened to her, who dared to hurt her like this. Stefano wishes she tells him, wishes to know who to force his anger on---  
  "I shouldn't be here, I'm not allowed here anymore, and I will be in so much more trouble if...if..."   
  "No one but me decides if you are allowed here or not! Ava, please." Stefano needed to hold her. Protect. Shield, defend, to see her smiling and content. Not bruised and beaten.  
  "I feel disgusting..."  
  "Did he do this? _Ava._ " The bruises on her neck... those on her wrists he hadn't even noticed when she came in but now he did, and there isn't much he can think of where this pattern could fit. "Was it him?"   
  Jealousy. Ugly and burning hot jealousy. It took over his mind, would intoxicate actions and if Stefano isn't careful, words as well. Ava doesn't deserve this, no... she doesn't... She needn't say a word, Stefano knew. Knew what happened, knew who did it, knows what he would do next. Her reaction betrayed everything to him, she did not have to speak. How her hand covers her mouth and quivering lips, the memory of it apparent as Stefano inquired.  
  "Ava," so gentle he whispers her name, allows her to come into his arms, "Tell me where to find him and I may have a talk with him." She clung to him, melts in his embrace, he felt her shoulders shaking and chest heaving against his. "You never have to see him again. You let me take a promise I was unable to keep to you, now let me try it again on my behalf."   
  She never said a word, listened to his voice until her sobs came less frequent, the muscles in her fingers released and Ava was quiet with him, calm.   
  "No one will do any more harm to you. Nobody will touch you but me."  
  "I'm so, so sorry, Stefano---" Tighter he hugs Ava, his hands both in her hair, on her skin.   
  "It will be good," he began, "I will make it good again." Stefano lowers the volume of his speech, whispers into her ear. "Tell me, please, where I can find this person. I may find out either way." Ava wasn't happy with this, but did not seem very surprised about his question. Still she hesitated, and Stefano was certain whatever she expected him to do, he probably would do worse to that monster.  
  "Don't leave me alone, Stefano---"  
  "I will hurry. Just a little talk. Just a few questions. You are safe here now, and once I'm back I will hold you again to never let go."  
  "Stefano, I'm... not sure... please don't leave me alone for so long. This can wait, right? Please."  
  "It ends tonight. I want tomorrow to be different for you. You can not change my mind, and I said I will find out where to find him without you telling me."  
  "...be careful. Please, be careful." Ava wasn't convinced, not ready to let go of him, but Stefano released her from his embrace first. To look down into her face, brown eyes glistening with tears. She gave a little card to Stefano, with her manager's name and address printed on.   
  "I am always careful, _la mia vita_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a wild ride.


	23. Fear & Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after the rise comes a downfall.

Something changed. Something within his mind, inside his chest and heart. The fever of hurting another human being, what fueled him driving a shard of glass into a breathing individual causing pain, inflicting lethal damage. Killing. Ending one's life with your own hands, it does something strange with you, but Stefano thought he may feel less human, less comfortable and instead way more conflicted. No conflict roared in him, no guilt or shame or disgust, nothing bad he could find. His feelings came from the opposite spectre. She was killed for his art, his pleasure. Nothing wrong Stefano could see with that and, when he thought back to dreams and nightmares, it could have been Ava instead of a woman that he barely knew after so many years passing by. It could have been her being around Stefano while in this state, her blood on his hands. In this moment he was glad it was not Ava. Never will it be her. She was in danger, Stefano the only person capable of keeping her safe from now on, had the power to deal with this situation. She needn't fear anything, no one, as long as Stefano was there.

He left his apartment with the briefcase in one hand and Ava's fingers around his other; gentle force she used to keep him from leaving, said no word. Stefano left nonetheless. Reassured her. Told her it would be fine. She let him go, her fingers slowly retreating to hold onto herself.

Stefano followed the dark street leading across the park and to the manager's address, thinking of a way how to get the man to open his door for a complete stranger in the middle of the night in case he lived in an apartment building; yet he appeared to be lucky standing in front of a two level house and only one name on the door. _Ramirez._

  From the window next to the entrance the lights of a TV were flickering, betraying the man was still awake; and if not, now he will be. Before he knocked at the door, Stefano checked the streets around him, if light shone through windows from the houses on the opposite side of the road, then he put on the leather gloves, hid the knife in the inner pocket of his jacket.   
  No matter what this person says to apologise, Stefano will not have it. He knocked and waited for an answer.

  "What the hell... Its almost midnight, who are you!?" The man standing in the door frame in front of Stefano was a lot smaller than he imagined. Maybe five foot eight. He had a goatee, short brown hair and thick eyebrows over a pair of steel blue eyes that stared in disbelief at Stefano.

  Stefano just smiled crookedly, did not dare move yet.  
  "My deepest apologies, Sir. I have lost my way, it appears, and saw light coming from your house. Do you know the way to the next hotel?"  
  "Ugh, fuck, are you serious... Why those tourists always coming to me for help... Gimme a second. No, come in. It's cold out."  
  "Ah, thank you. But are you sure?" The man's deep voice had a thick accent and now that he laughed he sounded like a madman, full of himself, drunk on confidence.  
  "About what? Letting you in? I don't believe in gun control." The laugh made Stefano's hands twitch, heat rose up his neck. But he came inside, closed the door behind him without letting the man escape his vision. Voices came from around the corner, from the TV, and as the man walked into what seemed to be the living room, Stefano followed keeping track of the surroundings. No family photos. No ring on the manager's hand. The house was a mess and smelled like sweat and alcohol, no trace of children or a woman or literally anything that would get in his way.

  "So? You're a tourist? I thought the visitor centre is open twentyfour-seven, though this city isn't a big magnet."   
  "It closed at six in the afternoon," Stefano simply said, followed shortly behind him, "But you are not from the states, either. Right?"  
  "I'm Dominican. Came here as a tourist, so I know your struggle. Wish someone had helped me back then."  
  "I see." Its difficult to feign interest, knowing Stefano won't do anything with this man's information in the end. "But it seems you made it."  
  "Through blood and sweat, I did! Now, where is the map..."  
  "What is your profession, Mr. Ramirez?"  
  "I'm in charge of a modeling-agency for some years already. Tough work sometimes. Women can be a handful."   
  Stefano took a deep breath.  
  "Oh, I see." 

Mr. Ramirez found a map of the city, was looking for the nearest hotel in their area, and Stefano struggled to hold himself back. He could stab him right now while the man wasn't looking. He would have no chance to struggle, not a second to defend himself.   
  "See? It's going to take you half an hour to get there, but it's the closest you'll get. Keep the map. Or else you'll have to wake up the next poor man."  
  "No, I don't think so. After all, I came for you, Mr. Ramirez." Hand reached for the knife under his jacket, fingers curled around the hilt while Stefano watched the man turning around to him, mouth agape to say something as his eyes fell on the weapon.  
  "You---"  
  "I haven't introduced myself," Stefano politely speaks, knife thrusting into the other's shoulder, "I am Stefano." He pulled the knife out for a second thrust underneath the first wound, the other man grabbing Stefano's arms to push him off--- he screamed in agony, blood got onto his face.  
  "Stop---" The grip on Stefano's arms weakened, the color drained from the manager's face.  
  "You did not stop, either." Stefano drove the knife into his abdomen, twisted it within flesh before pulling out, letting the blood spill onto the floor; he took a step backwards and the man fell to his knees trying to stem the bleeding.  
  "Help..." Voice too weak he couldn't even yell anymore. Stefano watched as Mr. Ramirez lost what was left of his strength, stood and watched as he died on the floor.

There was not as much blood on his clothes as before when Stefano killed that woman, and luckily it couldn't be seen outside in the dark; black clothes are much more suitable for killings. He had cleaned the knife using the dead man's shirt, wiped his gloves clean on the carpet as good as he could.  
  He needn't take care of this corpse, but there was still a dead body in his studio that needs to disappear. Stefano contemplates if he should do it tonight before it began to smell, before the odor seeped into the building where it would stay, but... Ava waited for him. Far more deserving of his time and attention than a dead whore.   
  Tomorrow was another day.

Stefano unlocked the door to his apartment, found the lights turned off but could hear music from the living room. He hurried into the bathroom to get rid of the bloodied clothes, to wash his hands and face, changed into old but bloodless clothes from the laundry basket. It doesn't smell any better, though less terrifying for sure. Maybe... Stefano needed a shower.  
When he stepped out of the bathroom the music was quieter, the lights in the living room turned on again. He saw Ava sitting on the couch wrapped in several blankets, staring at him with wide eyes and he could not define the expression on her face. Stefano looked at her, didn't get close yet, waited if she said anything...

  "Please," Ava murmurs, "Come here." He did so without thinking about it. Sits next to her and pulls Ava close to him, both his arms around the blankets she is bundled up in. Deeply he inhaled her scent of blood and sweat, kisses the top of her head then and allowed the calm, this feeling of serenity, to envelop him completely.  
  "What happened, Stefano?"  
  "I talked to him," came his short response, "He will not hurt you again." Ava draws in a breath, removes her hands from underneath the fabric, clings to Stefano's shirt and buries her face in the crook of his neck before she spoke to him.  
  "I brought you into all this mess. I'm so sorry..."  
  "No. This is... not your fault. None of it." Her fingers clench, Ava hesitates.   
  "...it's over now. I don't have to leave you again. He can't tell me what to do anymore."   
  "Never again." With that Stefano kissed her hand. Sees dried blood underneath her nails and a wave of anger rolls over him again; Stefano squeezes her hand lightly, had to remind himself that this was over now. He ended it. All that Stefano had left to do was to make sure the traces left of him disappeared from her body.  
  "You should take a shower. Ava. There is---"  
  "Do I smell... that bad?"  
  "...yes, but I honestly am no better. You have blood in your hair. Under your nails, too. You will feel better once it is all gone." She pulled her hands away, looks at them before hiding them underneath the blankets.  
  _She put up a fight against that man_ , Stefano thought, _but it wasn't enough._  
  "Come with me," Ava says slowly, uncertain, "I don't...want... It's just..."  
  "Okay." He hated what this person did to Ava. That he was able to break her down, leaving her shaking and crying, anxious and too scared to ask of him what she wanted. Ava doesn't need to hide, doesn't need to be afraid anymore; he knows that, but Ava needed time to realize it, too. If it is time she needs, no, anything, Stefano will provide.

  "Okay..?" Ava asked, again Stefano thought that she sounded afraid. As if he was able to decline her anything.  
  "Okay," Stefano assured, and Ava looked at him, "I need a shower, as well."  
  "...thank you." She stood, got rid of the blankets and left them next to Stefano on the couch. He doesn't know how to distract her, how to make her forget; and with all Stefano does know, for certain she would never forget about what happened to her. But as safe and whole as he felt with Ava, was he not able to give her that feeling as well?

  "Let me get us some fresh clothes first. You can go ahead." Ava nodded and when she walked towards the bathroom, Stefano noticed how little steps she takes, how slow she moved. Stefano doesn't want to think about it. Goes into his bedroom in search for clothes to wear for Ava, although there wasn't much to pick from. There's a few sweatpants that didnt fit him anymore, but they'd be a good length for Ava; she might want a pullover  instead of a button up shirt. He takes the latter for himself. 

With new clothes and a few towels in his arms Stefano entered the bathroom, saw Ava standing before the mirror still fully clothed. She didn't hear him coming in, or at least did not look at him when he closed the door as well.  
  "It will go away, Ava," Stefano assures, the clothes placed aside, "In a few days, you will not see any of it."  
  "I... I know." Ava struggled to find words, decided to not talk much at all, and each time Stefano notices it sent a violent sting into his heart. This shouldn't be happening...

  Stefano fell silent then as he undressed, clothing thrown back into the basket until he was naked; Ava hasn't moved. Carefully he touched her shoulder in case she flinched at the sensation, but she looked at him through the mirror with tired eyes. He began to undress her, shirt first pulled up her back and over her head then. She held onto the fabric before giving it to Stefano adding it to the laundry, and as he turned back around it was him who flinched at what he saw on Ava's back. More bruises, more scratches, and those weren't his. A long cut was drawn from her neck down above the spine, only superficial but enough to coerce blood. 

  He found no words, none were on his mind. Breathing grew heavier, heartbeat violent. She turned around to him with tears in her eyes, revealed more wounds to Stefano by doing so. Cuts... small incisions, dried blood on them and around them, spread on purpose after the damage had been done. The red lines were drawn between her breasts all the way to her lower abdomen, other shorter ones meant to look like scars from surgery; he's got those, too, had the appendix removed as a child. Stefano wanted to stop looking at it, but couldn't. He wanted to focus on his breath, but it was hard. Ava opened her pants, then, slipped out of her underwear as well. No wounds there... Tension ceased slowly, ever so slowly, from his muscles and his heart in particular when Ava stepped closer to him and finally Stefano was able to look into her eyes.  
  "This will go away, right?" She wanted to know, didn't stop the tears from falling, did not mind them or maybe, did not notice. "All of this will go away?"  
  "I promise you, it will."

Ava stepped into the shower first, making place for Stefano to follow and slide the doors shut. She kept her head bowed a little as he turned the warm water on, and as the water streamed down her hair Stefano closed the distance between their bodies, didn't want to see the blood washing off her skin. She raised her head, eyes closed, her hands come to rest at the sides of his arms. A light touch. Unsure, reluctant.  
  "Is the temperature alright? Does it...hurt?" He asked, a little worried--- the cuts would burn in any case.  
  "Its fine." Her short answers made Stefano feel worse each time, and he couldn't shake that feeling.   
  But this wasn't about him.  
  He promised.

Stefano began to wipe the leftover blood from her temple and her hair, her eyebrow and lastly Ava's lips. She let him, no longer evading his touched and instead, came a bit closer to him and her hands ran up Stefano's arms, shoulders, stopping at each side of his neck. He bends down until his lips ghosted above hers, wet and swollen but no longer bloody.  
  "Please," his breath fans over her lips, "Let me--" She brought her lips up, first. Interrupted him, but Stefano doesn't mind that. Their lips laid upon each other for the first time in over two days. Too many hours he spent thinking about it that he hurt, imagining her lips on his own hasn't been enough but he was left without a choice; now Stefano knows it was never her choice, either, unimportant the words she said to him on the phone now that her lips pressed against his so smooth and delicate. He deepens the kiss on his own behalf holding Ava's face, caressing her cheeks. She pulled away soon. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, barely enough. But she looks up at Stefano, wipes his wet hair to the side. He wanted to protest at first, saw how Ava looked at the damaged eye, that part of him he despised so much.

  "Does it hurt?" She asks, water pouring down her lips.  
  "Sometimes. Yes."  
Her finger ran over the eyebrow, a sensation he felt but could not see. "I wish I could make it go away. All the pain, everything that hurts you." Ava talks to him in a hushed voice, barely to be heard over the streaming water.  
  "It is... easier with you. Bearable," Stefano starts, "Yet there is so much more on my mind that you cannot make easy."  
  "...I know. And that's okay, too. I'm still here for you, with you." Hearing her talk again, hearing her voice unshaken and certain, it made his heart feel a lot lighter. Stefano wanted her to be happy. Needed to see her smile.

  "I want you to stay with me, Ava," his hands wandered down her arms, tugging lightly, "Stop leaving me. Stop running away. What you said to me on the phone the last time hurt, while all I tried to do was to keep my promise to you. I thought you left that morning and I---"  
  "Do you really think I could leave you just like this? Do you think I wanted to go at this morning without telling you where I'm going? Have you thought I wouldn't come back after everything I said to you?"  
  "Yes. Yes, I did. I know what you said on the phone."  
  "Now you know what he did before and after I was on the phone with you. None of this was easy for me, but I... I know it hurt. I know..."  
  "You promised not to hurt me, Ava."  
  "I know! I know..." She averted her gaze, tried to calm her breath, he could see her chest heaving. These words had spilled, not a thought spent on them beforehand, and Stefano felt guilty now.   
  "I am sorry," Stefano says, feels so incredibly stupid, "Nothing of this is easy for me, and I... I am tired."  
  "You were right, you don't deserve to feel this way. I promised you, and the last two days I was sure I was unable to keep my word. I can, now. I don't want to hurt you, Stefano, I don't... I had no... choice."

He knows that. He should have known before, when her words shattered something inside him, when Ava spoke to him with a voice so cold that it didn't fit her, and Stefano should have known better. He can see what happened to her, the things this person did to her.  
  "I was scared for you," Stefano cups her face, makes Ava look at him, "And knew you were not okay." He kisses her lips and doesn't let her pull away this time, but Ava did not try to end their kiss at all, brought both her arms around his body; negative thoughts, the blame and pain, it fell from him in the moment Ava held him in her arms and she made Stefano feel like finally coming home.


	24. Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some wounds never truly heal.

Ava and Stefano stood like this, water running down their bodies and lips upon each other, fingers endlessly caressing wet skin. Only when Ava wheezed as Stefano touched the wounds on her back did he end the kiss for an apology, and to retreat hands to hers. Holding them tight, thumbs brushing over knuckles.  
  "Its fine," she assured, "And maybe we should get out soon."  
  "Are you cold?"  
  "No, no, but it'll be cold once we're out... I'm getting sleepy, Stefano." Yet she reached for the bottle of shower gel, popped the cap open. He watched Ava pouring some on her hands before she pressed both on his chest, the cold startling him even though Stefano saw it coming.  
  "Not sleepy enough, I see."  
  "I like the smell," she insisted, "You used it when we first met..." He smiles, remembers and wonders.  
  "I love your perfume, but you did not use it in a while. Though, your own scent is... marvelous." Stefano could see her blushing, wordlessly she continued rubbing the gel all over his skin, chest, arms and his back and further down.  
  "I'm afraid I don't have enough shampoo for your hair, though," Stefano says, "Do you mind?"  
  "Hm, not at all. I will have to wash it tomorrow again, but that's fine." He supposes she has... other things on her mind aside from her appearance, felt a little dumb for pointing that out in the first place. He wanted to make her feel better. Not... the other way around. But Ava's hands wandering over his skin, wet and slippery and warm, it made him feel cared for, sheltered. A new feeling entirely. Stefano observes her expression, absolutely delighted by that tiny smile tugging on her lips.  
  He wanted more of it.  
  Allows hands to move along her arms after the water washed the gel off his skin, the scent of bergamot and frozen pear filling the bathroom; Ava's enjoying it, and thoroughly so. Stefano leans down, nose brushing against her cheek and he felt she inhales the scent, draws closer to him while doing so.  
  "Stefano," Ava murmurs, "You didn't shave in a while." Her thumb traces his jawline, his chin. Warmth rose to his cheeks and he felt embarrassed.  
  "...true. I should."  
  "Don't worry about it. I haven't, either." He expected she'd smile, but Ava didn't. Rather turned the stream off and squeezed the water from her hair; he slides the door open and steps into the cold, steam coming from his skin and out of the cabin. A towel he gave to Ava, dried himself off, heard her wheeze quietly when the towel wiped over wounds.  
  "I have ointments and gauze left from surgery," Stefano told her, "Don't put the pullover on yet, let me take care of your wounds first."  
  "Okay. Okay..."

He turns to look at her drying her hair as good as possible, droplets of water on her stomach and goosebumps all over her body. There was nothing sexual about it. Not once did thoughts trail off the path turning lustful, Stefano didn't find anything erotic in the way she stood covering herself in shame when Ava saw him watching, and although he had imagined a shower to turn into steamy sex before this day, Stefano realized none of this was needed to feel good around her, with her. Craving intimacy instead of sex was far more powerful.

  They dressed, and Ava kept his pullover flush to her chest when she went back into the living room, her hair messily turned up into a bun with the ends still dripping occasionally. Stefano followed short, had gathered what he was able to find from the hospital; antiseptic ointment, cream, band-aids and gauze swabs.  
  "Lay down," Stefano says, "On your back, first." He's placing the supplies on the table as she laid down on the couch, her arms raised and tucked behind her head; he felt her gaze resting on him, felt the tension in her body when Stefano sat down beside her extended legs. 

  The antiseptic is applied first, drenching a swab with the liquid and motions become hesitant as it hovers above the incision starting at her chest; aware it will burn, not exactly willing to hurt Ava more than she was already, though he bites back an apology and decides to get it done sooner than later. Wiped the swab along the cut as gentle as can be, eye darting up seeing Ava biting her lip but she did not make a noise.  
  The smaller cuts receive the same treatment with a fresh swab and less antiseptic. Those are deeper, not gaping luckily, but they'd need to be covered.  
  Stefano leaves the ointment to sit, waited for it to dry, right hand brushing the spots on Ava's skin that were left unhurt. She relaxed eventually, closed her eyes exhaling gently.

  It took less than a minute for the liquid to dry, and Stefano carried on. Smeared some cream on the back of his left hand, using the other to apply one bit at a time across the wounds while he payed more attention to the smaller cuts on her lower abdomen. All of the cream used, a gauze swab he places on the deep cuts and used adhesive at the end.

  "Almost done, Ava." She sits up slowly again, doesn't look down on his work but felt it with her fingers. Ava opened her mouth to say something, got cut off by Stefano kissing the corner of her lips, her lower lip then, soon to become a heartfelt kiss that she reciprocated as a silent _thank you._  
  She doesn't need words.  
  Doesn't ever need to thank him.  
Ava turned her back to Stefano now, it urged him to put both legs around her form where it was a bit more difficult for him to reach the table, but being closer to her seemed far more important. No hurry laid in his actions, proceeding with care and attention to the steps from before. Letting the ointment dry, kissing her shoulders, the terrible smell no longer bothering him; he had to get used to it before and some day Stefano became fond of it. With the cream he draws a line down Ava's spine, a little sting of anger with each inch going further down delivered into his stomach; it did not affect Stefano's touches.  
  Stefano wipes the left over cream from his hand with gauze, did not announce that he was done yet. Ava was so quiet, breathed calmly and the goosebumps on her back betrayed she enjoyed it; being cared for and treated with compassion after days like these.  
  "Thank you," Stefano hears her speak, "Thank you so much." He places short kisses along her shoulder, careful not to smudge the cream. Feeling her shivers, feeling her breath hitch with every tiny peck, it left Stefano wondering if Ava was smiling now. Even a little.

  "Hey, Stefano?"  
  "Mhm?" He stopped, held on to Ava from behind.  
  "These last days have been awful, not only for me but you as well, I think. I could see it when you looked at me, Stefano, that you were exhausted and haven't taken good care of yourself. And I think I know for sure after reading your message about an appointment with your doctor." She turned her head slightly, tried to catch a glimpse on him. "You don't need to tell me everything that happened to you, I don't expect you to, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. We've not known each other for so long, and... All I want to say is that I will be trying my best for you, and I want to get to know you and for you to get to know me." 

  Images of Bella flashed before his eye, dying in a pool of her own blood, fear on her face and tears in her eyes. Fever rushes through his veins, adrenaline, Stefano becomes nervous; Ava doesn't need to know about this, he cannot tell her anything of it, not because he was afraid of a possible reaction but for the mere reason of Stefano needing her as close as possible, a selfish desire, pure vain and obsessed love. _It would be fine like this,_ he thought, _it has to be, what I create is artistic, it is marvelous_ , but terrifying as hell it was too. She needn't know. Stefano could tell her everything else, anything she wanted to hear or had to know, yet that by now biggest, scariest part of him, it had to be hidden from Ava for her own safety. Should Stefano get in trouble, at least she would be safe. Should he keep going like this, leaving corpses along his path of creation and perfectionism, Ava better was not one of those plastering it.  
  The thought alone twisted his stomach, shook a cold in him.

  "I would tell you anything about me," lying, that he could, but for her sake he figured it necessary, "All you need to know. We do have the time, yes? I have no intention of letting go of you without you telling me every little detail about yourself. Or, my, better yet, allow me to discover some by myself when I am with you, allow me to remember them and surprise you. I have had a horrible time not knowing if you are okay and well, had the feeling that something was wrong, so of course the way you spoke to me did not make it any better, rather so it felt as though as you took a part of me to destroy it. No malicious intentions you have had with me. I felt that, as well. Am I... even making any sense..."

  "You do. Keep going." Ava's hands reached for his on her waist, caressed him.  
  "You are not the one destroying me, I have done that to myself. You are the person keeping me together, despite the last few days without you. Maybe that is... further proof. Do I sound selfish? I need you. Want you. All of you."  
  "I'm not the one who's selfless, either, Stefano, I need you just as much. Nothing you did today was selfish in my eyes."  
  "...perhaps we should talk after some sleep. This is my third night in a row."  
  "...what?" Ava turned around fully to face him, expression not soft and clouded with worry. "Did you eat? Did you drink anything? Is this my fault?" Last sentence was barely a whisper, almost inaudible as if she spoke to herself; his hands cup Ava's cheeks, pulled her in.  
  "I managed," Stefano responds, "Somehow." Ava's eyes were glued to his lips as they hovered barely over her own, she held her breath before Stefano kisses her, reassuringly and it was a silent apology as well.

There were no more traces of the cream left behind, Ava happy she could finally put on the pullover Stefano gave to her. She's clinging to the fabric on its neck, taking in the scent. Once she noticed him trying to get up from behind her, Ava pulled him up along, embraced him tightly. Fingers played with his still wet hair, attempted to fix that mess he couldn't bring himself to mind.

  "Your pills, Stefano. Do you---"  
  "If I was to take one now, I may not get up before tomorrow evening. Their side-effects prevent me from nightmares, it is why I use them in the first place."  
  "...it really doesn't matter how long you'll sleep, if you... need them to sleep in peace, then take them."  
  "Will you wake me up tomorrow?"  
  "No," Ava looked at him and this was the first time in what felt like forever that she smiled, and she smiled so beautifully it melted his heart, "Probably not."  
  "Fine, I will set an alarm then." Ava judged that with a feigned glare but an even wider smile seconds before releasing him from her grasp to walk to the bedroom. "Please take your pills."  
  "I will." She probably could not hear him anymore, but Stefano meant it as a promise, proceeded to take the tube of pills from the drawer and took one of them with a glass of water.

Ava wiggles up close to Stefano, lifted the sheets for him to crawl under and come to her. She radiates warmth and it's used as an excuse for him to stick his cold hands underneath her pullover, making her gasp. Unable to see much in the darkness of the room, Stefano couldn't read her expression, assumed Ava to be quite amused by it though; gasp turned into chuckling before silence fell and he closed his eye, forehead leaning against hers. Stefano feels her warm breath on his skin, breathes shallow and slower himself to listen, the woman's heartbeat right aside his very own.  
  "How do I say goodnight on Italian?" Ava asked, tone hushed. He grins.  
  " _Buona notte_."  
  She whispers, repeats his words, barely to be heard, before, a little louder then:  
  "Buona notte." Ava brought her lips to Stefano's, the share short and soft and sweet. He fell asleep not long after a good night's kiss, Ava's fingertips caressing his lower back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been in a really bad spot mentally, especially the last couple of days. This isn't me asking for pity, this is me asking for literally any kind of feedback on this work, because I considered canceling and deleting it countless times by now without ever knowing what I should think about it as a whole. I dont value myself very much, and I didnt value this work very much. But i want to, because i used to love it.


	25. Glass Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the storm and thunder, sometimes there's a moment of calm.

Of course Stefano had forgotten about setting an alarm for the next day, and once he woke up the man panicked in search for the phone to see how late it already was. These pills had done their work, luckily so, kept Stefano from having bad dreams, yet the minute he was awake pictures flooded back into his mind. Of Bella and Ramirez, both in a pool of their own blood, only one of those corpses beautiful enough to be deserving of being called _**art**_.  
  Deeply he inhaled, heard music from outside the bedroom; finds that Ava isn't beside him and did not disturb his sleep, either.  
  Its eleven in the morning.  
  Stefano groans. Today will be as long and hectic as the previous ones, an understatement it was to say he's sick of the stress.  
  Most of it was homemade, though.  
  He had no right to complain.

The smell of bacon and eggs filled the hallway to the kitchen, he could hear the coffee machine brewing quietly despite the music in the background. His stomach complains, starving, that smell all too tempting. When was the last time Stefano ate properly?  
  "Don't sneak up on me, I've got a frying pan and a... whatever the hell that thing is."  
  "I believe normal people call it spatula," Stefano responds, thoroughly amused, "How did you hear?"  
  "Normal people would say that the door to your bedroom squeaks incredibly loud."  
  Truth be told Stefano noticed the squeaking those first couple weeks after moving in, but you get used to it to the point of your brain ignoring the sound completely.  
  "Good morning, Ava." His arms wrap around her middle from behind, his chin he put on her shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"  
  She hesitates. "...yes."  
  His grasp around Ava tightens a little, she kept mixing the eggs in the pan. "The coming nights will be better, I assure you." He tried to reassure, to get back into the mood from a minute ago.  
  The work he will have to do today was not pleasant at all, and he needed those few moments of joy.  
  "You look good in my clothes," he says, "You can keep that pullover, if you like."  
  "You're sure? No, no, it won't smell like you when I'm keeping it. That was the whole point!"  
  "Oh, I see! You like me for my _scent_."  
  "Mhm, exactly. Its gonna smell like food now, though. Can you get me a fresh shirt?" She made it sound so serious, Stefano actually let go of her for a split second only to realize her irony.  
  "Almost had me there..."

  "Don't get too excited, this is almost all I can do when it comes to cooking," she confessed over a cup of coffee and half-emptied plate, "But I wanted you to eat something and was glad to see eggs in the fridge."  
  "At this point I would have eaten anything. And does that mean I have to eat scrambled eggs for breakfast for the rest of my life?"  
  "...or fried eggs," she's taking a sip of coffee, may be thinking of other things she could do, "Pancakes?"  
  "In any case, I need to stock up on eggs."  
  "You're _unbelievable,_ Stefano."  
  "I can cook, though," he says with a slight smile, "Leave that to me."  
  "That's one option. Another is we do that together and you try and teach me." She takes a sip of coffee, eyes focused on Stefano.  
  "I might turn out to be a lousy teacher, and do you think having you around to assist helps me to focus on cooking? Call the fire department."  
  "Hey!" Ava had to laugh, set the cup down on the table not to spill anything. "This isn't what I had in mind. You cook, I sit on the counter and watch you."  
  "...Ava, no." How is he supposed to get that dumb grin off his lips?  
  " _Ava, yes!_ Its gonna be like watching a cooking show, but I'll get to grope the chef. That's the dream."  
  "Oh dear, I will have to survive on takeout for the rest of my days... or eggs."  
  "You don't seem that like that option, huh?"  
Stefano takes a few seconds to consider what's best. Takeout or distraction. A good way of distraction, though, considering it's her beside him, and perhaps he can learn to deal with being watched while preparing meals.  
  "The takeout, no, I do not. When it comes to you I find it hard to concentrate. You are... very captivating. And I'm awfully defenseless when it comes to you."  
  "Nah, you'll learn," she's amused, and takes a liking in teasing him, "I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Promise."  
  "I doubt that. You are more of a preying cat."  
  "... _meow_."

He's taking care of the dishes, listens to Ava complaining that it was her job to do that; after all she made the mess, but Stefano denied that. Not mentioning to her that he'll get irritated when things aren't put back in their exact place, he simply explained it with sharing works and that this is how they'll operate from now on.  
  She already hopped to sit on the counter next to the sink, legs swinging lightly. He should get used to that, right?  
  "What's on the agenda today?" Ava asks, a freshly filled cup of coffee in hand.  
  "You said you'll be a mouse," Stefano replied, tried not to chuckle, "Failed step one."  
  "I! You! Aren't cooking! That doesn't count! Are you telling me to shut up?"  
  "Hm, no. Pointed out I was right is all, I mean not to insult you. I very well know you will not shut up nor do I want you to."  
  "Sweet. I've got lots of things to tell after all! Even when I actually just asked if you have plans today."  
  He didn't want to disturb that moment. To see that feeling of harmony fading. Now the man had no other choice.  
  "I have another appointment later today. But until then... I guess we should go to pick up some things you need from your apartment. You do want to stay for a while here, right..?"  
  "Of course I do. Only...well, you're going to see another side of me, then, at my place." He looks at her to see Ava chewing on her lower lip, brows furrowed slightly. With his hands still a little wet he goes to stand between her legs, grabs a towel hanging from the wall.  
  "Well? Do you sleep in a coffin?" At least Stefano manages to make her snort.  
  "Worse."  
  He really needs to think what could be worse than sleeping in a coffin. "An open kitchen?"  
  "This is the worst you can think of? Really?"  
  "Is there anything worse than a missing wall between the kitchen and living room?" Ava's hands found their way to Stefano's cheeks, soft skin on rough stubbles. "Yes. Not shaving for three days." She kisses him before Stefano could complain or even think of a word to speak.

  "I look _hideous!_ You could have told me, Ava!" He stood in the bathroom, in front of the mirror to look at himself. A shadow on his face where he hadn't shaved for a while, his hair a complete mess, a dark circle under his eye. He looks ten years older.  
  "I did! Kinda," he hears Ava's footsteps coming closer, "Just shave it off."  
  He sighs. Applies the shaving cream with steady hands before he'd start.  
  "So, you can't talk now, that's my chance," Ava announces, climbs to sit on the washing machine behind Stefano, "I've never brought anyone to my place before, and it may not look like it but I'm a little bit, uh, conflicted about bringing you there today. I know for sure you won't like what you'll see, but I'm not gonna tell you what to expect. Until then I'm sure I've lost all the shame and will act all tough again. I'm complicated, I know."  
  "Mhm," Stefano knows he shouldn't talk, but does so anyway, "Sounds as if you do not want me to come."  
  "What? That's not it. Seriously. You'll see."

  "I fixed your blue dress, like I promised. I suppose... you do not like to wear it today, no?" She still sat on the washing machine, watched when Stefano wiped the leftover cream from his face after shaving. At first Ava didn't react, had her gaze lowered to the ground then. He turns around, hands on her thighs, fingers drumming lightly. "Ava."  
  "Ya..? Did you say something?" Her eyes wander without a point to focus on, over his face and combed hair. "How handsome you are?"  
  "No," a second to reconsider, he's grinning, "Actually, I am, yes. I said that I have fixed your dress, Ava." Her eyes lighten up before she realizes she won't be able to wear it if she doesn't want anyone to see the wounds.  
  "I know," Stefano quickly says, "Soon you can wear it again." Ava's lips form a silent _thank you_ before they meet Stefano's for a quick kiss. "I was in thoughts. Sorry." Stefano wouldn't dare blame her for that, nor wanted her to apologise at all. He understands.  
  "Do you want to go now? I'm ready." She hums in response to him, arms around Stefano's neck before Ava gets down again.

Once they're in the car and she pulled out of the parking lot, Stefano notices she doesn't turn on the music and its unbearably quiet. Uncomfortable he thinks it to be, reaches to turn it on by himself although he's unsure about which button to press. Ava sees his struggle, but what he doesn't see is her big smile.  
  "Usually, it's the one that says **play**."  
  "Too many buttons. My camera has just one I need..." The choice to press play he instantly regrets upon hearing Sweet Caroline, and its met with a groan from him.  
  "How do I skip this...?" He tries the next button; big success, only the next couple songs aren't to his liking either.  
  "What are you searching for, Stefano?"  
  "Something good."  
  "We're not going to get along like this. A few days ago you liked my music!"  
  "Yes, because there were no country-songs on the disk. There is only so much I can take, you see?" Except for Neil Diamond... each song on that disk was country music, and Stefano gives up.  
  "Your standards are too high, Stefano."  
  "Perhaps? But you do meet all of them." Aside the taste in music, though, but he'll be able to deal with that. "And I am certain we can get along just fine, Ava."  
  "I wasn't being serious with this. Of course we can! All you need to do is learn to love my music."  
  "...no." She throws him a short glare, couldn't quite keep the serious attitude any longer and struggles to hold back on laughing. With no other choice left but to suffer along guitar music and singing cowboys, Stefano endured the next twenty minutes completely silent, but held on to Ava's right hand nonetheless.  
  "Okay. We're here."

She takes out the keys and unlocks the front door, leading Stefano through the entry hall of the building and up the staircase. That building looked old, stairs dirty and creaking with each step. He hears voices from all around the apartments, couldn't believe that these walls were actually this thin; it doesn't strike him as a good place to live.  
  "Well then," Ava opens the door to her apartment, "Come in."  
  She takes a couple steps ahead, turns around to him and inhales deeply, hands on her hips.  
  "That's where I live. A friend decorated it, took care of the furniture, but that mess is mine." There's clothes laying on the ground. Actually, clothes everywhere. What seemed to be the couch once was hidden underneath magazines, newspapers and even more clothing. The room didn't smell bad, she had the window opened, but it felt... dirty. He isn't speaking, unsure of what to say, sees new trash and other stuff laying around everywhere as Stefano keeps scanning the surroundings.  
  "I don't do the laundry, because I have no washing machine. The expensive clothes I get to the laundry shop down the street, and I buy new underwear all the time. All those magazines, you know, I haven't read them but I can't bring himself to throw them away either," she did not sound uncomfortable anymore, relieved instead, "I also don't do the dishes. The one time I hired a maid she ran away crying." Stefano was hesitant to take a step forward, still at loss for words.  
  "All I have got in my fridge is water, vodka and milk, and I don't care about that nor is it bothering me. But I think you care. I think it will bother you. Now that you know this about me, do you still want me to stay at your place for the time being?" He felt there's another unspoken question on the tip of her tongue, obvious in the way Ava looked at him expecting that he leaves on the spot.  
  Truth be told, this was worse than an open kitchen, nothing Stefano could have possibly imagined. He likes things neat and tidy. And clean. If asked to clean such a mess, Stefano would have not a single clue where to even start.   
  "It bothers me. I surely do care, not only because of what is to find in your fridge and this... _this_." Vaguely he gestures to the chaos. "I am neither disappointed nor in any other way conflicted by... this, since I don't intend to change your ways. I wanted to get to know you, and well... I may have not been prepared, thought of anything else really, I do however still want you with me."  
  "I could tell you about all the excuses I've made to myself why I don't want to clean or why I don't care about the mess, but it's not what you want to hear from me. And, then, your place kinda scared me, so clean and tidy and oh God what if I was to leave my stuff laying around? Now you know more. I want to look good myself, but all the rest?" She shrugs, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her thoughts, her words, what she said, it was all over the place without a real direction where it could be meant to go, yet he thinks to understand. She simply doesn't need everything cleaned. Makes sure that she could show herself in public, and her car she kept in good condition, as a symbol of status. Curious about her reasoning, though, that he was for certain. Laziness doesn't seem to be the explanation.  
  "At least then I know you feel at home, or? I leave my stuff laying around, too. Sometimes. Not very often... I mean..." This time, lying didn't come very easy to him. Not well thought out beforehand. It managed to make Ava laugh quietly, though, so it mattered not.  
  "I promise to be careful when I'm at your place," Ava assures and watches Stefano come closer, "And I---" He won't let her finish, seals her lips with a kiss that deepened quickly, that had nothing sweet or soft. Passion, instead, and longing too. Brought forth by the desire not to let it end, since Stefano knows he'll have to ask Ava to go home while he has to go take care of his studio. No, he felt more drawn in to her with every passing second, hands roaming down her chest to pull Ava closer on the brim of her pants. Getting to know her, bad sides or the good ones, it was exciting for him; he couldn't possibly help it.

She hesitated. Her hands she kept from touching him and caused Stefano to rely on force; tongue pushed between her lips, inside her mouth, fingers groped her backside, no shame or decency. No sign of consideration, either.  
But Ava makes it all too clear that she doesn't want what he wants, breaks the kiss and pulls away breathing heavily. "Maybe... later," she said, not a promise but obviously an attempt to let him know she's not completely against it, "When you're back."  
  "Give me something to look forward to," Stefano demands, "Make it bearable."  
  "...okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your support, on here and on tumblr. thank you for your messages and encouragement. thank you for still checking by, for reading, for sharing your theories about it with me! I will release the next chapter on the 20th April, where your theories are either debunked completely or you'll want me to add you as a co-author because you were right all along.


	26. Sympathy For the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are things you do for love, and others you have to do out of desperation when nobody tells you there are other ways to handle it. (Ava's POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which all of your theories either come true or get shattered to pieces.

She closed her eyes in his embrace, felt Stefano weave his fingers through her hair, playing around with a couple curls. She refuses to let him go. Doesn't necessarily care about any appointment he said he has, utterly selfish Ava keeps Stefano in place, afraid to be left alone again if just for a few hours. But the man kept insisting. Pulls away from her embrace sooner than she thought he would to look into her eyes apologetically, words came naturally.  
  "Gather what you need and wait for me," he begins, "You can wash some of your clothes. And rest a little." Ava wonders if he knew she hasn't slept much last night, if its visible in her eyes or if Stefano could simply feel she needed more sleep; sometimes she thought it was easy to see through him, reading in his face and from actions, and perhaps Stefano thinks the same from her, too.   
  She knows he shouldn't be able to.  
  For his own sake.  
  "You don't want me to drive you there?"   
  "No, you do not need to. It isn't far from here." Stefano gives her the keys to his apartment, kisses her forehead before taking a look at the watch on his wrist. "It won't take long."  
  His gaze was so distant. Ava wants to ask about it, what is there on his mind, if he worries about something, and if she could help in any way possible, very well aware that Stefano would only dismiss it and decline any offer. Ava watches him turn around to leave and guilt forces her to go along, makes her voice quiver.  
  "Stefano, I... I love you." Don't forget about it, she adds in her head, please don't. Heart picks up its pace, quicker and harder it beats, different from before when Ava told him. As violent as the first time she heard Stefano say it, unbelievable the fact that he felt what she found too scary to accept, to indulge in.   
  "I love you, too."

Ava makes herself place to sit on the couch, throws off clothes and newspapers and pulls her knees up to her chest lighting a cigarette. When Stefano left and closed the door behind him, the room had gotten so cold and uncomfortable, being alone frightened Ava enough to muse about the half emptied bottle of vodka sitting in the fridge. Would it shut her thoughts up? Would it make those words go away, those of guilt and shame and fear?   
  Time runs out.  
  Time to decide if she was able to live with herself, knowing what she has done already, knowing what might happen in the future.  
  Hot ashes fell on the couch, Ava curses and wipes it off, but a burn remained. She completely forgot about smoking, about the cigarette between her fingers.   
  "You're so stupid," Ava says to herself, "So fucking dumb. Why did you bring him here in the first place? Why are you wasting those fucking cigarettes..."  
  Partly she suspected Stefano would go. Seeing that mess and realizing Ava wasn't as perfect as he wanted her to be, as she played to be. Ava foolishly hoped for him to see it as a big enough issue, preventing him to desire her close knowing how this place looked like, he must have been thinking she was too lazy to clean, or enjoys the chaos. 

  In any way, and Ava for one was certain about that, Stefano could have come to terms with it, accepted it in the end, and still wouldn't have changed his mind about her; no other way she can think of to push him off without hurting him, without feeling too sorry about this, but it was a chance to take in order to keep him safe. A chance wasted, resulting in Ava blaming herself more and more for being selfish.  
  She doesn't want him to leave. She cannot leave by herself, either. Knows about the consequences, what it will do to him, what he would do if she doesn't listen to his instructions. If there is any way to escape from him, she'd take it.  
  All Stefano had to do was to cancel the sessions with his doctor, stay far away from him to see someone who actually cares about his patient unlike this therapist does.

Her mind kept going back and forth, to telling the truth or carrying on, from indulging to messing around with the feelings of someone Ava cares about, the feelings of him that she had, as well, if not as violent but just as strong and inescapable.   
  They could leave. Together.  
  Leaving Krimson City and Beacon behind.  
  That thought too tempting and captivating, Ava almost didn't hear her phone ringing. Her heart leaped, hoping for a call from Stefano, while in fact...  
  "Hey, Em? Did something happen?"   
  "Ava, honey? Have you heard something from Ramirez?" Emily's voice was loud, panicky and hectic. Ava swallowed.  
  "I... no? Why?"   
  "He's not picking up! Isn't opening the door for me either! The TV is on, so I know the bastard is at home."  
  "Maybe... maybe he's drunk again?" Ava doesn't sound sure, and Emily noticed that.  
  "What do you think? I was supposed to meet him now, what do I do!?"  
  "He... I have no idea. Try calling him again, Em? I think he's simply drunk and fell asleep, it wouldn't be the first time..."  
  "Yeah, but... You know, he said he'll try to get clean, right? Right...? I can't afford to lose another manager to drugs and alcohol, God damnit..."  
  "Seems to be the job hazards," Ava's throat was dry speaking, "Managers come and go."  
  "No, photographers come and go, but a good manager like him? Ava, I'm gonna try again and if he doesn't open up I'll call the police."  
  "Ah... Okay. Keep me updated." With a shaking thumb she ended the call, caught some last words from Emily before doing so without understanding what she said.  
  "God, I..." The phone buzzes again. This time Ava's heart sank down into her stomach. 

Incoming call: **_R._**

  "This is the third time I'm calling you. Who were you talking to?" His voice sent nasty shivers tingling down her spine, and at first she struggled to answer.  
  "...a friend. Why are you calling?"  
  "I call to ask if you have done what I ordered you to do. Or if you need a second reminder."  
  "This was the last time I listened to you. This was the last time I did what you wanted me to do! You hurt me---"  
  "I did? To me it seemed that you thoroughly enjoyed it, and you were never against a little... blood."  
  "Fuck you... I'm done with this, with your games and... I'm not your toy, you don't control me anymore." Tears formed in her eyes, sobs in her chest.   
  "Liar. You know as good as I do what you really want. You are---"  
  "No," Ava never dared to interrupt him before, "You know nothing."

  He's chuckling, the sound of it so gentle but threatening all the same. "I know what you want to do. Do you think you are able to escape me? My will? My control..? You are mine, and what do you think will happen if he was to learn about your true intentions? How long do you think he can remain sane under my therapy, with the things I tell him to do when he is sure I only wish for his best? If you knew what he told me... You would not want to stay with him and rather come back to me."  
  "You hurt me... Stefano would never---"  
  "Oh, believe me, he would. How naive you are... what feeling does he give you? Can you say for sure he doesn't just play around? He kept talking about sex, insisted to see me for a session only to tell me how badly he wants to fuck you. Do you remember? Before the time you decided to disobey me, when I was certain you would turn that man down."  
  "Stop lying to me! You... you're lying. You can't manipulate me any longer, I won't let you, I won't let you use him, I'll---"

  "If he doesn't kill you, I will," he managed to shut her up, and she barely manages to hold onto the phone, "I hold more in my hands than you can imagine. So, what is it you want to do?"  
  "...To keep him safe. Far away from you."  
  "Hm, no. This won't do. The poor man needs someone to talk to, a person to listen to his sick and twisted dreams. Does he not deserve that, to come to terms with all of what is bothering him? You are so selfish."  
  "Stop pretending, Ruben! You're using him, you...! You're using both of us--!"  
  "You love being used by me." Fever rose to her head, makes her dizzy and nauseous.  
  "Shut up..."  
  "Where are you now? Let me come over to remind you again. Perhaps he wants to watch."  
  "...shut up."  
  "I will find it out anyway, but it will be a lot easier if you tell me. Ava." When he said her name it sounded like a confession of love, a prayer, too sweet and soft and it did not fit Ruben at all. She has to cover her mouth, would have yelled at him if she could.  
  "Ava. You don't want to get hurt, do you? We have a goal, do we not? What can a stranger like him possibly mean to you?"

  "I..." _I fell for him,_ she meant to say, I _love him, and he doesn't deserve any of this..._  
  "I left you alone for so long, caught up in my research. I promise it will change and you will see that nothing else matters anymore. All you are doing now is a cry for attention. My attention."  
  "No..." A whisper. Ruben didn't hear it.  
  "Tell me where you are so I can take care of you."

Ava told Ruben where she was, despite the fear gnawing at bones and the panic tightening her chest. He was capable of hurting her, but worse so capable of harming Stefano and when it came to him, she'll endure what Ruben would do. If she was lucky it were only words that stayed to haunt her.  
  A knock on the door signalled his arrival, Ava's legs shaking when she got up to let him in.   
  Ruben looked down at Ava with a sinister smile, feigned courtesy remaining still in the door frame as if he waited for Ava to ask him inside. She didn't. Words stuck in her throat. The last time they met he cut open her skin to remind her of her place.  
  "You still didn't clean, I see." Ruben's voice had a mocking tone, he walks past Ava to look around. "Did you pack some clothes? Where are you going?" Referring to the bag in the corner next to the door, Ava knows that he asks only to hear it from her personally.  
  "I'm going to Stefano."  
  "Really? I didn't agree to that. He will not be able to do what he wants as long as you are around. You're restraining him."  
  "I... don't know what you're talking about. And I don't have to ask for your permission." With her back against the door, Ava stood watching the other's every movement, tried to see if his expression changed.   
  "Oh, of course. You think you're with him now? Took a liking to a murderer?"  
  "...he isn't like you."  
  "He will be. Some people are easy to read, easy to manipulate. And even easier to break. See, making him believe your manager hurt you was not difficult at all, in a state like this people like him believe in everything that makes the littlest sense. You sent him there, did you not? You did what I told you to do, today you stand here and act like you know this man and can trust him. Why did you tell him and listened to me when you did not want to?" He took a few steps closer, gestures with his hands while he spoke.

  "You think everyone can be a killer. Everyone that suffers can make other people suffer? That's bullshit, and no matter how hard you'll try, you can't manipulate him."  
  One of his hands reaches for her throat, thumb and index finger applying pressure to the jugular veins making Ava gasp for air, her struggle coercing a wide smile from him.  
  "How are you so naive? He isn't the first. Won't be the last. Why him, Ava?" She tried pushing him off, to tear at the bandages over his face, but felt too lightheaded to act properly; strength nonexistent. Ruben had an easy game, his other hand on it's way to her back intending to close the distance between them.   
  "You would fall for everyone expressing the slightest of interest in you, feigned or true," his face comes closer, the grip on her throat lightens, "But he doesn't love you. Not like I do."  
    
Ava's voice hitched as she tried to speak, his hand on her throat making it harder for her.  
  "Please let me go. You don't need me..." It is met with a smile from Ruben, lips hovered slightly above hers.  
  "You are right. But I. Want. You." 

He initiated the following kiss, rough lips laid on Ava's. For as long as she didn't dare move it reminded her of how it began, the first time they kissed like this, the moment she gave in and allowed Ruben to have his way. To dominate and lead the way, to gain power over her and everything Ava did, not allowing her to leave his side using honeyed words and wild touches to see her melt against him.  
  He may not have been able to help Ava figure out why she was weak for men like him as it was originally his task as her therapist, but he sure as hell knew how to use the knowledge for his own pleasure. Ava doubted his intentions back then have ever been pure, should know this doctor was far from being a verified health expert.   
  All Ruben does is destroy. And she thought what he did was fixing her.  
  "You still love me," Ruben murmurs, tongue running over her lips, "You still want me." Ava tries shaking her head; urging Ruben to choke her once more.  
  " _You need me_." 

No more kisses. Burnt hands instead roam down her heaving body, tugging at the fabric of Stefano's pullover and the expression on Ruben's face betrayed disgust. She couldn't stop him from taking it off, even raised her arms in assistance, avoided his gaze and covered her chest.  
  _This is all just a dream_ , she thought, _why won't I wake up?_  
  "After I am done, I want you to go to him and act like nothing happened," the doctor traces one finger down the cut, "You will keep me in your mind all the time. You will know, the moment you think you are able to leave me for someone like him, that I will do what I am capable of to make you regret your decision and _dispose of him._ "  
  Weakly she nodded, digs fingers into his shoulders distantly hoping to hurt him. Ruben doesn't react at all to the sensation when he pulled her pants down past the thighs, rubbed two fingers between her legs.  
  "Soaking. Wet," his fingers slide underneath underwear, between folds to spread the liquid all around, "You are turned on by my power."   
  Ruben forced his way inside her, two fingers thrusting, pushing wildly, lewd squishy noises embarrassed Ava to the point of crying out, begging Ruben to stop. Legs trembled and lost their strength to keep Ava up, he followed when she slid down to door, ruthlessly fingered her with one hand, the other wrapped around her throat again, Ruben kept looking into her eyes and Ava couldn't stop moaning.

  "Remember the first time I used you? You begged and cried and pleaded for more, harder, faster, **deeper,** " he talks sweetly, quietly and made sure Ava looked at him, "You craved me, touched yourself when you knew I was looking to turn me on, thinking you had any power over me. It made you so wet, though, so I could skip this annoying foreplay and take you on the spot." For short Ruben's grip loosened, allowing her to breathe through, chest heaving and eyes teary.  
  "Look at you now. Desperately trying to push yourself onto some self proclaimed artist without any talent, he has no way of figuring out who you really are, what you need. You should have stayed with me, Ava," a third finger is added, with that more fury, "I already know who you are. No need to put up an act for me. But if this is what you want..."   
  Tears rolled down the corners of her eyes, Ava clenched her jaw feeling that knot tightening in her lower abdomen---  
  Ruben pulls away, leaving a cold and miserable feeling; unfinished business causing disgust, shame, hatred roaring within her chest, to know she'd let it happen in the first place...  
  "I hope you feel sick and abhorrent when you let him finish what I began. Think of me, and remember what I will do the next time we see each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes! Its /that/ Emily.


	27. Heavy in your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, great. More sex. More angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that this is my work, my choices and my way of writing. I am open to any kind of suggestions and criticism that is constructive and doesn't judge the way I chose my story to go. Please enjoy!

Stefano searched for the keys in his pockets, afraid he's lost them or forget them back in the studio; it took him a good couple minutes until he remembered he gave them to Ava before. In the self-induced panic, waves of strange heat cursing through his veins, he had not forgotten about her waiting for him, only had different things keeping his mind occupied. The man will need a better way, a different way, of getting rid of dead bodies or to conserve them for a while; the smell and process of decaying nothing Stefano wants to experience again.

  The pictures he took were perfect, though, making up for the crap that he went through afterwards. For now, until he could find another place to store them, they're kept safely in one of the photography-books stored in the studio. Paranoia had gotten the best of Stefano in the middle of the process, the feeling only worsened when he was already on the way home. Stefano imagined to feel the eyes of people on the street resting on him, judging, mocking, knowing---he actually made sure not to get any more blood on his clothes, checked a thousand times if they were clean.

  Standing in front of his own apartment, before a closed door while he knew Ava waited for some hours already, images caught up to him once again, accompanied by sounds and the gruesome smell of decay. Tearing skin, cracking bones, metal hitting the ground underneath.  
  Breathing heavy, shallow, Stefano struggled to ring the bell, stood frozen in time. If it had been possible, he liked to go back, do it all over and better this time, no delay, no fear and no hesitation. A little less messy. An actual knife to cause lethal damage instead of lousy shards of glass; the smallest price to pay seeing what the outcome was, beautiful photographs depicting the moment of death, sadly unable to capture the noises of passion and fighting against the inevitable end... He would find a way to preserve those, as well.

His mouth felt awfully dry, lips chapped and cold alike hands, yet not quivering as much. He wished he kept the keys, imagined quietly going in to find Ava unaware of him being back, enabling Stefano to grab her, hold her from behind not losing any time or the arousal that built up, tension that begged to be released.  
  This had to do.  
  He pressed the bell button twice. Wiped sweat from his forehead and tried to soften his breathing.

Ava opens the door for him, air caught in her chest and he could hear her exhale in relief, assumed this emotion was not the only one she felt seeing him. Stefano says nothing upon stepping inside, smashed the door shut and immediately caught Ava in his arms, tightly embraced her, took in her scent. Her hands clench above his lower back, getting his body closer and his heartbeat faster.

  "I missed you," Ava murmurs, "God, I missed you." She pulled him in again when he tried to look at her, used more force he wasn't aware she had; he chuckled, had zero complaints.  
  "I missed you as well, _cara mia._ "  
  She's shivering, warm to his touch.  
  "Don't ever stop talking," Ava softly says, " _Fuck_ , don't you stop." The moment Stefano tried to do what she said, Ava already bent up to catch his lips for a kiss, one that starts with tongues circling each other, where noses bumped and breathing came fast.  
  Stefano guides her backwards into the bedroom, not a second went by without their lips upon each other; up until Ava's legs were brought against the bed, causing her to fall sitting on her bum.  
  "Stefano." Ava looks up to meet his gaze, eyes wide and lips swollen. "Keep going. Talk dirty to me." 

  Words remained stuck in his throat, the most he could force out were low and short groans having to watch Ava opening his pants, her hands then stroking his erection through the fabric of underwear. "Oh, you can't..?" Ava teases, uses only fingertips to caress him.  
  " _Dolcezza,_ " his breath hitched when Ava took the underwear down to properly touch him, " _ **Ti desidero.**_ " She gently kissed the tip, tongue darting out for slow licks which makes Stefano tremble and push his body closer to her mouth. He's whispering sweet nothings to Ava, switching from english to italian involuntarily, swallowed a few words when Ava swallowed him; voice changed to be louder, impatient.

  "Don't you stop, _Ava_ , don't---" Whatever Stefano wanted to say, it ended up as a drawn out moan where his breath stopped and limbs shook, hands grabbing her face in that second Ava dared to pull away with her mouth still wide open; he comes on her tongue and her lips, zero control and little restraint.  
  His body remembered how to breathe. How to control motions, how to get rid of those clothes that stuck to his skin from sweat, all care lost about where they ended up landing.

Ava rose to undress, had a smile on her lips while licking them clean. Watching her was more than fun to him, arousing and exciting, enough to drive him crazy. She notices, of course, she always does; and taking off her string Ava turned around to bend over for him to see her backside, how wet she was...  
  The cuts caught his attention again and his features softened, hands reached to stroke warm skin without touching wounds; hips and sides, shoulders and arms, bringing Ava against him from behind and then Stefano turned to get on the bed with Ava in his arms so she could lean against him.

  "Spread your legs," he breathes in her ear, "Do it for me." Ava follows his order, no delay, her hands searched for Stefano's but he's got different plans. Touches her inner thighs, barely so, listens to her quiet moans and whispers. Stefano continues to whisper in her ear between kisses and sweet bites, hands slowly wandering up her stomach and chest so he could cup breasts to squeeze them, nipples teased between two fingers.  
  One of his hands went further up careful not to brush against the long cut until thumb would trace Ava's lower lip wet and warm; soon to be replaced by his index and middle finger. Surprised by it, Ava opened her mouth to inhale. Stefano used the chance, poked one finger against her tongue and Ava pleasantly played along; mouth widened, tongue circled his finger leisurely before Stefano pushes deeper, pushes her tongue down. 

  He felt her breath against him, fast and frantically. Felt the way Ava leaned more and more against him, could see she spreads her legs wider while both her hands caressed his legs that kept her in place. Two fingers he slips inside her mouth, pressure to the tongue until the second Ava whimpered and caught him between her lips. Sucking, licking them until they're slippery and wet, going deeper inside with lesser care. Stefano encourages Ava, _harder, use your teeth, let me hear your voice,_ he can hear she's moaning within her throat, mouth kept close. 

  Stefano takes his hand away, fingers pulled out to feel the air cold against wet skin, and Ava complained quietly why he stopped, held on to his arm; with haste, fueled by Ava's grip on him, two fingers dig inside between spread legs, crooking and thrusting immediately. No more complaints, replaced they were by loud breathing and moaning, words of pleasure fell from her lips between it all.

  "Stefano--- you feel so good--- _Stefano_..." Teeth dragged along the back of her neck, his eye closed so he needn't see these marks that weren't caused by himself, makes it his goal to add to them, to erase their memory and meaning for Ava, for him. Softly he bit into skin, not enough to leave traces behind, only so she feels it, reacts to it and Ava did so rather violently. Tried to hold Stefano's arm, caught his wrist between her legs to stop him after pace picked up.

  "Are you trying to stop me, darling..?" Stefano whispers into her ear, slows down. She doesn't seem to like that.  
  "No, no, I-I'm not... Stefano, oh god, please just let me look at you, I hate this---"  
  "No, you don't," he teases, "I can _feel_ that you enjoy it." 

He doesn't let her finish. Pulls out eventually, listened quielty to notice Ava getting closer to a climax, when her voice got louder and she started to beg him not to stop--- 

  "Lay down now," he began, "Oh, are you mad at me?" Ava turned to look at him, a sparkle in her eyes. Brows drawn together, lips slightly opened.  
  "Disappointed," she replied breathlessly, "Frustrated and horny and---" Good, he knew that. That's the point.  
  She's pressed down to lay there next to him, stared up at Stefano in surprise. And she watches him going down between her legs without further words, no apology nor explanation necessary. 

  Ava plays with his hair. Caresses his forehead and eyebrows, draws along the scar on the left brow. He tenses every so slightly, could not look up at Ava although enjoying her strokes. More he adored how she tasted. And how wet she was. The way her flesh pulsates and muscles clenched, subtle Ava's movements near his face. Stefano takes it slow, takes her slow, uses the tip of his tongue alone to give pleasures as it drags along folds, over her clit and around the hole poking inside whenever he made his way further down.

  "You feel... so good... Stefano~" She whispers. Sweetly, under her breath, continues to touch Stefano's face. Scars she could reach, hair she thought tickled him.  
  "You're so incredibly good to me," Ava doesn't stop, and Stefano wishes she never would, "I love everything you do."  
  Warmer he felt, excited as well. But cherished above everything, found that he reacted very well to her praising him like this, compliments and confessions. His tongue slowed down, tentatively in the way Stefano licked her.  
   
  "You are... beautiful like this. So beautiful--- with your pretty face between my legs~ I wish you could see it, too." Some of Ava's words were only moans, shivering and higher in tone. He craved more. Hotter his skin became with each word, breathing shallower.  
  "I can feel your smile, Stefano... Do you like it?" Smile turns into a grin, Stefano looks up at her humming against her skin. Ava sits up a bit to have their eyes meeting, fingers running through his hair and down Stefano's neck.

  "I love seeing you like that, Stefano... I love feeling your tongue and your lips---" Two fingers push inside of her, interrupted her speech and instead let Ava moan and bite her lower lip... "Your... fingers. Everything about you, Stefano... _aa-h_... Stefano, please, make me **come!** ~" She whined, digged fingers into his scalp. Closed her eyes and laid back down.

  "What do you want to hear... Stefano? How beautiful you are, how good you feel? How much I love to hear your voice. And that you are always on my mind, with a smile on your lips that I love to see..?"  
  Stefano hums again, thrusts fingers harder, licks her faster.

  "...ahh--- how hot you look while taking photos..? God, _fuck---!_ I..." Stefano was sure Ava had more to say, would do anything to let her continue, but right now he will rather have her finish. Had added a third finger, pushed tongue and lips hard against her clit until Stefano feels her skin tensing, the tightening around his fingers. And when Ava's hands clenched in the sheets instead of his hair, he knew--- she cries out, calls his name. 

Shaking, hot and surprisingly quiet now when Stefano got up again, Ava had her eyes closed and smiled so wonderful and calm, he just needed to add his lips to hers. She smiled too against them, sucked his lower lip in between hers, biting gently.

  "I love you," he spoke, lips still close, "I love you so." It was his turn to touch her wounds. Thumb carefully ran over the dark red spot on her lower lip, his other hand touched Ava's neck and imagined to mend and heal the bruised skin, thought his fingers could make them disappear.  
  "I love---" Ava's mouth fell open, unable to finish. Stefano pushed inside her hole, no warning given on purpose. Watches Ava's expression change from surprise to full bliss, mouth still opened and breath fanning over his face. 

  For a second, overwhelmed by heat and tightness, he didn't dare to move. Places little kisses on her cheek, her nose, cups Ava's face in order to watch her, so she would only look at him. He thought to see tears in her eyes, thought her expression was of sorrow, or perhaps fear. Stefano did not know where it came from, found that Ava caught herself shortly after, before he was able to inquire--- he whispers to her, whispers her name, sweet nothings when he began to move. Never takes his eye off of her, concerned to miss anything, the slightest change on her features if he only looked away for one second. 

  Stefano thrusts leisurely, relishes in the feeling of her warmth taking him whole. Bit by bit she forced muscles to tighten around his cock, with each thrust a little more until it hurt him; pleasurable indeed, but the pain let Stefano gasp, then clench his teeth; motions grow in violence and speed. No longer holding onto her, Stefano rose his body up and grabs her knees forcing Ava's legs apart more and more.

  "Ava," his voice was deeper, lustful, "What are you thinking of? Ava, you are not supposed to think at all, right now..." She hesitates, maybe caused by Stefano moving in and out of her, slick from her juices.  
  "I think about you. Only you..."  
  "I hope so. I get jealous very easily." He talks in a softer tone, a little smile on his lips. Ava mirrored it.  
  "You know that I'm yours, Stefano."

He had no more reasons to hold back. Remembers her words and the tone she spoke them in, how his name fell from her lips so warmly, devotedly.  
  And so it does now, as well. A fast pace he picks up, had to be careful not to slip out; before he realizes how rough he's gotten, frantic and no longer precise, Stefano felt wetness not only dripping but spraying. Soaked the sheets underneath her, juices spread out to Ava's inner thighs and his lower body, too; she's begging Stefano to keep going, loud and desperately demanding him to move harder, to do it fast--- he listens, he complies, grabs Ava's hips firmly to fuck her harder, breathes heavily, vocally--- 

  Her back arches and Ava reaches for his hands, his wrists to hold onto them like Stefano holds her. As their eyes met, both their bodies heaving and trembling from a shared orgasm, Stefano mused hers must have been more violent--- Ava was louder, had tears in her eyes calling his name out, squirted forcefully and was deeply ashamed by this. She covers her mouth first, and if it hadn't been for Stefano still between her legs, she would have clenched them to stop herself. Stefano stopped her, first. Laid down on top of her, both his arms embracing Ava showing there was not a single reason to be embarrassed.  
  His cock was still twitching within her, slipped out after little time. It felt... strange. Too wet, too hot, still much too arousing.

  "It... happened again," Ava murmurs, out of breath, her hands wet on Stefano's back, "I ruined your bedsheets."  
  "We did," he corrects her promptly, "Give me a few minutes and I'll clean up."  
  Stefano is not at all willing to let go of her as soon, the wet no trouble for him. Much rather he takes in the scent of her sweat, mingled with his own and the perfumes lingering still, a mixture of sweet and spicy.  
Her hands lay motionless, shallow breathing underneath all Stefano hears. Muses about Ava falling asleep, leaving him there unable to figure out how he was supposed to put on fresh sheets; the thought of sleeping like this at one point was tempting, but both of them had to deal with the remains of the other on their skin. 

  "Ah... I should..." Stefano inhales. And gets up to kneel first, then to stand on weak legs on the ground, the sudden cold and stickiness uncomfortable. "...bathroom."  
Ava reacts with a shaky chuckle, wipes brows and her forehead before she sits up as well. Gaze rests on him once leaving the room to clean up, Stefano felt it, so familiar that flaring heat coursing through veins when Ava's eyes laid upon him.  
  She says no word, though. It bothered him, to hear the bed creaking lightly from her movements while she clouds herself in silence. Unable to see her expression now made it worse. 

What should he say? Silence throws him back into darkness, the dangers of his own mind, toxicity of his thoughts.  
Silence hurt. Silence means to suffer.

  "Ava," not much thought is spent into what to say in the first place, he's got to wing it, "...did you wash some of your clothes already?" He sounds stupid. And he knows it.  
  "No." The ruffling of sheets comes from the bedroom, Stefano feared the tone of Ava's voice--- "I'll do it tomorrow."  
  With one of the wash cloths Stefano wipes the fluids off his skin using cold water and hands soon become numb. He has no idea what to say, afraid he did something wrong already. Again. 

A good minute he stands like that, water running over his hands. Until Ava comes in with the dirty sheets in her arms to throw them into the laundry bin. 

  She is right next to him. But he feels lonely. Dares not to look into her face when she takes a fresh cloth, and... on a whim, a split second of Stefano acting on a sick impulse that sent electricity through muscles and tendons, he grabs Ava's wrist holding her in place.  
  When before Stefano could not bring himself to look at her, now he sees brown eyes wide open, lower lip bitten and breath held.  
  He proceeds to take the cloth she barely held between her fingers, reaches to soak it with cold water. 

Gazes locked. Shock replaced by enticing fear of the unknown. Ava's eyes speak volumes.  
  "Do you not trust me?" He asks and sounds so innocent and lovingly, comes to embrace her with that hand once gripping Ava's wrist tight enough to leave a mark, left hand's wiping the dripping cloth between her legs gentle in contrast to previous actions. The coldness made Ava gasp and complain.

His gaze softens. Hers does not.

  "No... I mean, I do. I trust you." Ava sounds uncertain. Stirs an emotion akin to anger within Stefano. This time, he is not eager to let her see it.

  "Do you even have the slightest idea what I would do for you," Stefano continues to clean her, firm his movements now, "Can you imagine? Can you remember what you told me?" His left hand withdraws from her, cloth thrown into the sink so Stefano can pull Ava to him and whisper into her ear.  
  " _I love everything you do,_ " he repeats Ava's words from before, can feel she melts against him, "Do you really?"  
  "I do." No more hesitancy. No more fear he could sense. Devotion.  
  Stefano smiles, his lips trace her earlobe shortly before he pulls away to look at Ava. A smile tugs at her lips, little, yet clearly apparent. 

  It was enough. For now. 

  What if she knew the things Stefano would do for her?  
  What he did for her already?  
  Would Ava say it again, knowing what Stefano is capable of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, there's character playlists on Spotify and YouTube now! I don't know how kindly AO3 treats me copying links here, so I will just point back to my tumblr account @crimsonperiod where you can find everything about #Paradise City!


	28. Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing lasts forever.

Sheets were changed to a set of fresh ones, the bitter smell of their fluids gone entirely. While Stefano crawled back into bed next to Ava comfortable on his pillows, he muses that he will need to wash the dirtied sheets immediately tomorrow, might add more detergent than usual.  
  "Are your hands still cold?" Ava wants to know, already reaching for him, for hands, intention to have Stefano close nonetheless rather obvious. Instead of answering, his fingers draw a line up her belly underneath blankets; Ava shivers and inhales sharply, muscles tense.  
  "Hmhm, I don't like that," she chuckles and draws close to him, "I'll warm them up, ya?"  
  "Noted," luckily his hands were often cold, "Please do, it shouldn't take long." She holds both his hands. Caresses them, each knuckle and finger, the back and inner palm and in the darkness of the room all Stefano could see was her silhouette next to him but he thought to see Ava's smile, too.

  "I want to get to know you, Ava." Stefano almost feels bad; they haven't said anything in a while and her caresses have gotten slower. She must have been already drifting off to sleep from repeated motions, a shared tranquility.  
  "Right now..? Then... ask me something."  
  Truth be told, he wasnt expecting her to respond. For sure he knows now she didn't sleep yet. And cannot think of something he was dying to learn.  
  "Hm... what's your favourite color?"  
  Oh, how original. So deep.  
  "Blue," she answers with a giggle, "What's yours?"  
  "...Red." Her breath fanned over his lips and chin before she stole a tiny kiss from him, one he couldn't get back quick enough.  
  "I think red would look good on you." Ava muses quietly and had by now stopped to stroke him. Her hands remained tight around his own.  
  "Indeed, but so does every other color. Did I not wear red around you yet?"  
  "Huh... no," a short break where Stefano wanted to reply already, "Though, you've been wearing red underwear one time. That counts." Its his turn to steal a kiss and Stefano was already close enough to her when her phone started to ring and blink behind her. She mumbled curses through gritted teeth while rolling over to the side.  
  "Oh, I'll have to... answer that. And you can think about how you would look in a bright green because I bet you that's a color you can't wear."  
  Ewh.  
  " _Almost_ every color." Stefano would not even want to try. 

She's picking up the phone stumbling through the dark to the door and Stefano lays on his back. Tries to hear some of the things Ava talks about on the phone and wonders. Who it was that called in the middle of the night.  
  "Are you... are you sure? The police told you...? No, I... I'm sorry. We didn't like him a lot, like none of us did, but... yeah... take it easy. You'll be fine. Call again when you need anything."

Ava came back into the bedroom, turned on the ceiling light and it blinded him. Stefano blinked a couple of times before trying to shield himself from the brightness with both his hands raised to cover his face.  
  "What happened?" he asks, but knows the answer already. Tries to sound oblivious, tries not to make it appear that he can already guess Ava's next words.  
  Time stood still. Painful the silence, crushing the distance between them, how Ava stood in the door frame with her fingers tight around the phone staring at Stefano. She is naked, must be freezing. Ava shakes a little. And when she finally brought herself to speak, Stefano held his breath.

  "Ramirez was murdered," the woman's voice sounds distant, as if she is not speaking to him, "He was found dead in his home."  
No matter what he was to say now, no matter the choice of words, Stefano needed to make it sound normal. Could not allow his voice to shake, should not stumble over words or even look at Ava the wrong way; with a guilty expression. But there was doubt guiding him, too.  
  "How do you know? Who called you?"  
  "When I was at my apartment, a friend and colleague called me to say that Ramirez didn't appear to a set date. That he didn't open the door. Didn't answer his phone. I thought he is drunk again, but Emily, my friend, called the police. They found him dead."  
  Nasty heat crawled all over his skin. He knew what would happen the moment Stefano killed that man, knew this will have consequences the minute Ava found out he was dead. 

  What he felt was not fear. No shame, no guilt. He has done the right thing, Ava was supposed to know that, and a part of him is desperate to tell her, to say with pride what he has done. But something in her expression speaks to him to keep it a secret; Stefano was not afraid, but Ava is.  
  "I see," Stefano finally replies, "So they must be investigating the situation currently. You will learn more soon."  
  "I don't know if I want to." She confesses, comes to sit on the bed and Stefano too moves next to her. "You talked to him...?"  
  Stefano didn't hesitate. "I did. Yes."  
  "What did he say? I should have asked you sooner."  
  "He was not... happy to hear what I accused him of. He denied to have done it, but he was a bad liar. I admit, I threatened him."  
  "You didn't hurt him," Ava says, as if she needed assurance, "You didn't."  
  "Certainly." Stefano did right to assume Ava was afraid, but of what..? Of him? The police finding out he was the one who killed Ramirez, given that Ava suspects him? 

Her breath evened out eventually, heat radiated from her still. She put the phone to the side keeping her eyes on it until the moment Stefano spoke.  
  "What are you afraid of, Ava?"  
  "I am not... I..." Stefano takes her hands, her wrists, looks into her face closing the distance.  
  "Are you afraid of me?"  
  She doesn't answer.  
  He feels it.  
  "Are you scared of what I would do to protect you?" 

  Ava closes her eyes, he watches the tears tumbling down on her cheeks.  
  "Of all the bad and twisted things in this world, I am not the one you should fear," Stefano lowers his voice and forces her to lay down with him above, "Nothing is going to harm you. Not while I am around."  
  Ava says no word, refuses to look at him. He continues to whisper, begins caressing her face and wipes tears that keep falling.  
  "I will not hurt you, Ava. Unless you ask for it." Spoken with an erotic undertone, implying fantasies he has had since the day Stefano met her for the first time.  
If she asks if Stefano killed Ramirez, he will stop escaping the truth. Will tell her what he has done to him, that she needn't be afraid of anyone else finding out how it happened. The police won't ever know---Stefano was certain.  
  "Ava," he purrs, "You do not have to be afraid."  
Chaste kisses he places on her warm skin, causes goosebumps with each contact, tenderly lips brush against hers.  
  He wanted more than just that.

  Ava's eyes finally meet his and in their darkness was something he craved, something deeper than innocent admiration, no mindless need is what Stefano wants: he desires tranquil, deep-rooted and unspeakable intimacy. Her eyes on his, her lips, most importantly Ava's fingerprints all over his body. Barely he knows her, too little she shared and not enough he asked. It has to change.

Ava brings her lips up to catch his. They're wet, taste like salt, of heat and desire. Not alike a simple kiss it felt, it was an exchange, a rhythm, something that goes much further than their mouth. An expression and form of lovemaking. A dialogue. Leaving this ache in the middle of his chest, throbbing in all the neediest places.  
  It leaves him in a haze.  
  The grip on her wrists releases for Stefano to stroke his cock, guiding it inside of her hole without asking Ava beforehand, yet she does not seem to be against it, she bucks her hips up to meet him as needy as ever.

  "Did you kill him?" She whines against his lips, speaks while his tongue roamed over them exploring, tasting.  
  His heart pounds heavily. He goes deeper inside and holds her hips down.  
  "I killed him," Stefano tells her, murmurs, "Yes, I did."  
  Again Ava whined, again she draws in a sharp breath, once more Ava looks at him with a hint of concern on her face.  
  "Why...?" She digs fingertips into his backside, squeezes muscles and scratches.  
  It stings...  
  "He hurt you. Touched you. Ruined you," every word was a whisper, dripped sweet like honey in utter contrast to their nature, "You are mine, mine alone, and what man am I if I cannot make that clear?" Rougher she touched him, intended to leave marks and perhaps to see him flinch, to see something else on his face but arousal and sickening pride.  
  "Don't do this for me. Don't... you don't have to. Please."  
  "I do not have to," Stefano says with a smile, "Yet I will. What do I have to do to make you see? Understand..? You should thank me and be grateful. What was his life worth compared to yours?"  
  "I..." 

  She has more to say. Visibly struggles to remain quiet, to be still, his hands holding her hips down relentlessly so he can thrust into her and watch as Ava loses herself, her control, her fear. When she tried to speak to him it became a high pitched moan, a cry for more.  
  His patience snaps. Thrusts savagely once and twice as Ava cries out, he grabs her hands and pins them over her head while she wraps her legs around his hips to bring Stefano tight to her.  
  Ava looks right into his eye, breathes loudly and demands he fucks her, attempts to take a piece of the sweet power Stefano holds. He speeds up his thrusts nonetheless, claims her mouth, bites Ava's lower lip and tugs at it with his teeth.

  "Give it all to me," Stefano demands, a growl in his throat, "Everything you have. Its mine." And after one more thrust he stays deep inside of her, feels her walls constricting around his cock intensifying his orgasm; Stefano bit into her neck and draws blood, relishes into the sound of Ava's begging and crying.  
  "Make it hurt," Ava whimpered, "Stef---" Immediate were his following actions. Painful how teeth dig into skin, tore it open, left tiny but bleeding wounds along her neck and down her collarbone, her shoulder.  
  Stefano stops, lips smeared from her blood, to look at Ava and share the coppery taste with her in an exchange of lips.  
  "I smell your blood," Stefano whispers, "It's exquisite." A moan comes from her at his words, she grabbed a fistful of Stefano's hair then to pull him in for another bloody kiss.

 

  "Stefano," slowly she voices his name, blows smoke from her cigarette out in the night sky, "At what point have you decided to kill him?" Ava talks in a hushed tone, maybe fears anyone could overhear them. It was rare that someone else stood outside on the balcony at this hour.  
  "The second I left here to go to his house. Another option did not exist for me, and it does not until this day. Have you changed your mind about me?" _Should I be terrified of your answer?_  
  She takes some time to think. Lowers her head to rest on her hand, the cigarette between lips.  
  "I did. Stefano, I did change my mind, but believe me, I have no clue what changed in the first place. I feel that we shouldn't have this conversation, feel that I should leave immediately. What you have done is scaring me. But..."  
  If she wanted to leave, she could have done so before they threw on some clothes to smoke on the balcony, and Stefano thinks that Ava isn't going to leave now, not in an hour, not in two.  
  Not ever.  
  ...or he will stop her.  
  "...but there is more to you I want to find out, more to you that draws me in instead of pushing me away. What I should truly be afraid of is myself for thinking like this. Trying to wrap my mind about what you did is... not easy. I can't... I can't understand it, I think I never will, and I should just get up and leave if I respect myself," for short Ava halts, her lower lip trembling, "I am stupid for loving you like this."

  Stefano watches Ava throwing out the cigarette's bum, watches as she turns to him and takes one of his hands with both of hers. Her lips move, yet she did not speak.  
  It was his turn.  
  "You have to understand, Ava, that I did not kill for the sake of it. Nor was it joy I felt, rather the feeling of pride caused by me being able to keep you from any further harm he could have done to you. Was it bad of me? That all I wanted to do was to make this man pay..? I love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly. I was either going to keep it a secret from you, or tell you hoping to receive your gratefulness."  
  "I never wanted you to do this. I thought..."  
  "What did you think I would do after you gave me his address? Drink a cup of tea with him and ask him politely to stop torturing you?"  
  "...I thought you would do anything but murder him. You have a dark and twisted side, Stefano, which I fear I will start to love as well as everything else about you."

To him, her words made sense. To him anything she said mirrored what Stefano thought although there was no praise, no acknowledgement in the way Ava spoke about it.  
  What the man deemed most important was merely the fact of Ava not wanting to leave, actually being unable to do so if he judged from her words alone. But Stefano knows she left in the past without an explanation, and yes, she returned. It will leave him aching and cold nonetheless was it to happen once more.  
  Himself Stefano promised not to act on emotions like anger and frustration, in front of her at least, that he would try sorting them out before these feelings became violent and ended in fright.  
  In a moment of silence Ava intertwined their fingers with her gaze locked to his hold tightening and the mood seemingly shifted from a thunderstorm to the rising of a sun, warm and bright and wonderful. Then, when Ava continues to speak, it becomes ever clearer.

  "You have me. All of me, as long as you want. What you want to know about me I will tell you, and what you want from me, as long as I can give it to you, you can have it. When you took care of me yesterday night, I've felt safe around someone else in a long time. You're the one giving me all those feelings I was starving for," a smile tugs the corners of her lips up, a sad one but true, "I was never a good person, always selfish and prone to... self-destructive behavior. Did a couple things in the past I'm not proud of, I did... things in the last few weeks and days I am not happy with. In no way will I try to make excuses for just one of those things. But with you here, now and today, can I try to be better? Can you help me..?"  
   
His eye wanders over Ava's face in an attempt to analyse her expression, whether it was a desperate cry for help or naked fear of being turned down. Was she not aware of Stefano needing her, too? He was the least to seek out excuses for the things he had done. All he can do is try and explain his motives to her, the only person he found mattered to him and by far the only one that deserves to hear his reasoning.  
  Stefano tightens his hold on Ava's hands. Not too loose, not too harsh, lets her feel what she needed. The closeness. Trust. And safety.

  "Whenever you need me, I will be there. I want to know all about you. Tell me every terrible thing you have ever done and let me love you anyway. Do you want me to help you, then you will have to promise me never to leave my side, Ava."  
  "I promise," prompt was her answer, thin her voice, "All you want to know, all you need, I'll give it to you. I promise." 

  "Tell me, now, are you scared? Do you feel uncertain? What is it that you feel for me?" Stefano demands to know, tells himself he should have done so earlier. Ask what she feels, even though her actions around him, towards him, were crystal clear. None of it diminished the fact of Ava leaving him twice, hurting him with words as her weapon.  
  "Do you want honesty, Stefano?"  
  He stuck to this single sentence. This question. Which sent shivers down his limbs and spine, which breathed cruel cold into his lungs. Brows are drawn together, a line appearing between them and seriously, Stefano doesn't know how to respond. Why was it even a question?

  "What reason could you possibly have to lie to me?" His voice shakes, makes him sound like a dumb lovestruck teenager, a naive boy who just discovered what he was able to do with a girl.  
  "Maybe you don't like my answer." Her tone, on the contrary... emotionless. And harsh in his ears and painful for his heart.  
  Desperate to escape this situation, naked afraid with tingling skin, Stefano opens the balcony's door to go back inside. She follows close behind him, sits down on the couch with her legs crossed shortly after Stefano sat down. A few seconds it granted him, half a minute at best, trying to contain emotions painting cruel images in his mind--- terror? 

  "The first time I saw you, the least I wanted was any kind of dating or a relationship. All I wanted was to sleep with you the minute you smiled at me and took my hand and God damn, when you talked you messed me up without knowing it. And here I thought only I was able to get a man weak like that for me. I had... I had plans when seeking you out. Different plans," Ava stops to breathe through, Stefano unable to intervene, "It changed when you began to talk and smile and were so passionate about your work. When you did my make-up. Then I... didn't want you to be mine, I wanted to be yours. Because that's how I roll. You've been so hesitant, though, that I had to actually go out of my way to get back to you after you yelled at me. I am actually used to that. Being yelled at. And worse. It was different in my mind for you for whatever reason..? I couldn't keep my distance to you, didn't want to, and so I simply... didn't. Even if something... told me I probably should."  
  He dares not to interrupt, focuses on his breath and heartbeat before his body forgets how to maintain both of it.  
  "The last time we talked about it I used different words, yes. Made it sound a little more romantic, right..? There is nothing romantic about this, Stefano. Not in the way we met or the first time we had sex. We weren't even supposed to do any of this. We never were. We shouldn't have. But you---"  
  "Why not?" He snaps. Inside his chest there's a raging fire setting his heart ablaze. "Why?"  
  She bends back a little. As if she tries to escape from what she began.  
  "Until yesterday, I was in a relationship with someone else."

It was a lie. It has to be. A part of him wants to laugh it off and tell Ava to quit messing with him, stop joking. Another wants her crying and begging for forgiveness, to tell him she is his alone, this other relationship doomed to end anyway.  
  A little part of him wants her gone forever.  
  And Stefano doesn't know which part to act on.  
He was only human, can only take so much. He thought he was able to see through her, read her, know her despite the little time since they've met; as if he read in an open book. But after all, it was written in a language he didn't speak.  
  "All the things you told me before were lies," he says agitatedly, "Lies. All of it. Lies."  
  "No---"  
  " _ALL LIES!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! ♡


	29. My Heart, Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano doesn't want Ava to leave and can hardly tell apart anger and sadness.

_"I'm yours, Mr. Valentini," she promised, "I'm yours."_

_"I didn't forget what you said. I love you, too."_

_"I don't want to hurt you, Stefano, I don't... I had no... choice."_

_"Please don't let me go," she said, "I don't want to be without you again."_

_"You're so incredibly good to me... I love everything you do."_

_"You know that I'm yours, Stefano."_

 

  "Lies..." Her voice was in his head, repeats the sweetest words she's ever spoken to him like a stuck recording, over and over those blatant lies--- He stands up, needs to get away from her, paces into the kitchen and back out through the hallway again, hands on the back of his neck clenched, trying to shut out her voice, those disgusting words and broken promises...  
  "Stefano, listen to me. Please!" Ava stands in the door frame to the living room, unsure if she should catch up to him or not.  
  "I don't want to hear more of your lies!" He almost yells. Forgotten the promises he made to himself.  
  "You wanted my honesty, Stefano. I've---"  
  "Always! Not just today or in this moment! Did you wait for a chance like this!? For me to confess a mistake I have made so you can forgive me for it and expect my forgiveness in return!?"  
  "You killed someone." Ava was unmoved by him raising his voice at her, by the fire in his eye or the rage behind motions.  
  "You cannot compare those two things. You played with me, you lied to me, over and over---"  
  "I didn't want to.... You won't let me finish---"  
  "DIDN'T WANT TO!?" He charges at her, grabs Ava by her arms and continues to yell, to let out his anger.  
  "Why did you, then!? You had the choice to stay away from me! You had the choice not to HURT ME!" Ava whines from his touch, fingers clenching around her upper arms and no matter how intense she struggled, he wouldn't let go. 

  "Listen to me..." She finds no courage to speak louder or raise her voice above Stefano's, averts her gaze by lowering her head.  
  "What makes you think I---" Before Stefano finishes, Ava pinched skin slightly above his elbows, hitting a bundle of nerves causing him to lose hold on her, surely infuriating him more.  
  "What makes me think you would listen? The promises you gave me! I said _LISTEN_ to me!" Its her turn to yell. Her turn to rage and roar. Stefano attempts once more to get a hold of her, surprised and taken aback when she slaps his hands away; adding fuel to the fire.  
  "They no longer matter." He replies with a sour expression.  
  _"Liar."_

Stefano pulls at her clothes. Her hair. Pushes off her arms when Ava tries to fight back. And he forces her to turn around, head yanked back by a fistful of red curls and her back pressed to his chest. Tears formed in her eyes, silent screams on her lips, fingertips not quick enough to scratch him before Stefano caught them, too.  
  " _Has any thing you ever told me been the truth, Ava? _" She blinks away the tears, clenches her eyes shut then.__  
  "Let me explain, please, I wasn't done, I---"  
  "Has any thing you ever told me been the truth?" Ava yelped when he pulled her hair again.  
  "Yes! Why won't you let me explain," she barely whispers now, shaken by crying, "It hurts..."

__

__His intention was to make it hurt. Of course. To put her down, put her in place, to dominate and show what he was capable of---and more which she wasn't supposed to see. Still, no matter Ava's words, doing more than this display of strength would not come to him. Not in this moment, not before. Surely it's going to tear him apart and leave him rotting where he stood.  
  Of all the things Ava deserves, death was not one of them.  
  "Explain it now."  
  "Let go of me first... _it hurts!_ " 

__Stefano doesn't simply let go: pushes Ava away from him and watches her falling to the floor, listens to her cries and pleads.  
  Admittedly... it hurt.  
  Just not as much as her lies.  
  " _Explain."_  
  "A... please, a minute, give me just a minute, I need... _please..."_  
  Stefano inhales. Sees it was impossible for him to shut up for a short minute. "You wanted to explain, now _do it."_  
  "I can't---stop---crying!" Ava hides her face, tries to hide herself, arms covering her eyes while she pushed herself against the closest wall. Her legs she'd pulled against her chest, somehow to stop the trembling or conceal it. To no avail.  
  He watches, heartbroken but much too prideful and hurt to offer his help. Stefano deserves an explanation. She deserves to cry and be miserable. 

  "When... I met him, I thought he... was helping me," Ava begins after a while, voice now hoarse and thick, "I came to him in my most horrible times, and he seemed like a nice person. Understanding and accepting... As if he knew exactly what I needed. As if he was the only one who ever knew anything about me," Ava stumbles over her own words every now and then, barely he caught a few due to her voice lowering more and more, "Instead he... he used it for himself, used what I told him to turn it against me. When I noticed it was... a bit too late. I was addicted to his power. The sweet words he knew how to use around me. I knew for sure this was never love, it was sick and disgusting and--- nothing about it was beautiful, no matter how hard I tried to see it as such, it simply hurt and ruined me and he knew, he knew, it was all he ever wanted from me..." She needed a break. Wiped tears with the sleeve, let shaking fingers roam through her hair. 

"I played along. I wasn't able to exist on my own, I'm scared of being left alone, I'm afraid of having nobody to go to, so terrified of being stuck with myself without anybody who can catch me when I need it. He knew that. All I wanted was someone to be stronger than me hoping this was what could help me. But it didn't help." 

She talked for so long that his mouth had gone dry just listening, observing and feeling what he did not think possible to feel after everything Ava said before. Shame and guilt. The desire to apologise, to make promises again he doubted would mean something to her any longer---most strongly he felt like crying for her, not for how wrong Stefano treated Ava today. She probably wouldn't want to forgive him and for the first time he may understand if she left.  
  Not that he could handle it well --- only understand it. 

__His mindset traveled from disbelief to anger to sadness, back to the beginning and beyond the end of it over and over and over that in this moment in time, the man cannot put his finger on what emotion it is that dwells inside him. He thinks he should be ashamed, like a minute ago. Accept that he was guilty of denying Ava to explain herself sooner before Stefano sunk into a frenzy  
  He wanted to know what she felt for him. He demanded to know without being entirely sure if he was able to handle her answer in the first place; this was more than Stefano expected to happen, though.  
  Intense and shattering.  
  But did he think love, no matter its nature, would fade this sudden..? 

__"I handled it poorly, I'm aware of that. He didn't react well to me wanting to be with you. Of course he didn't... I mean... but it... if just... if I had been able to leave him sooner, which I never had the courage to before you came along, none of this would have happened. You...? You wouldn't have to hurt."  
  "You can't change that anymore."  
  "...yes. I know." She's chewing on her lips, looks into nothingness in silence. He would give everything to learn about Ava's thoughts. 

__"What he has done to you is horrible. That you allowed him to do it is worse. When you knew of his true nature, why stay? Why do this to yourself?"  
  "For the same reason I would have stayed with you even though you murdered someone, Stefano," slowly and on shaky legs Ava stands up, arms curled around her abdomen, "I was madly in love and weak for men with power."  
  "...where are you going? Ava?" She walks past him without throwing him as much as a glance.  
  "What do you think? I'm going home. I explained myself to you and all you did was to judge me for it, asking questions that I had myself for years, blaming me for something I can't help. I wish I could."  
  "You can't leave." No, he won't try to understand, and will not handle her leaving; she'll stay. 

__"I can, and I will. You... you just..." She turns to look at him, tears in her eyes again. Or still. They won't stop coming. "Let me go. Let me leave you before I hurt you again and before you can hurt me again! I made promises for you, I payed for my disobedience, I tried to explain it to you but you yelled and compared your actions to mine, and now you won't let me leave even after you told me you would not believe in what I say? You asked for honesty and punished me for it."  
  "No. You do not get to twist my words around---"  
  "Unlike you, I remember what you said. We both confessed tonight and you were able to forget so quickly about what's been between us, rendered it down to nothing, that I think we should have stopped after our first---"  
  "No!" Desperation guides him to her, forces his arms around Ava in a tight and rather painful embrace, one where foreheads are brought together and both his hands lay at the base of her skull. "No."  
  "Why do you keep doing this to me...?" Ava asked, grabbed his shoulders. 

  "I remember every word you said, and each I spoke to you. The times I thought of you without even trying or the nights when I dreamed of you without understanding why, at first. But can you not imagine...? How I feel when you confess to me you were in a relationship all the while I thought you were solely mine? I marked you as mine, eager to prove it to you and anyone that would try to see. I truly believed you when you told me you belong to me alone, now did it all fall apart..?"  
  "All I wanted was to be yours since the moment I met you, but I know, I know... I know... I know, Stefano, not how you're feeling but seriously how nasty that's been of me. Its all too much..." 

__"I have wondered why you were not scared of me. Why you did not run from me, why you cared for me. How you could look at me with so much love in your eyes. You must have experienced worse than me."  
  "...I think so. Though no matter how hard I try and how often it pops up in my mind, I can't bring myself to think you're a bad person. I know other sides of you, after tonight more than I maybe wanted to know about but like... I... didn't... I shouldn't... be this weak..."  
  "All you should not do is lie to me. Tell me now if what we had fell apart." _And if it was me alone who ruined it by reacting like this, while I am unsure after all what I really feel except love and the intimate need to be yours._  
   
Ava purses her lips until she decides to answer, Stefano certainly anxious to hear it.  
  No matter the response, there was a lot to unpack.  
  "It broke," she speaks quietly, "I keep wanting to leave but actually I keep wanting to be stopped from leaving, I want you as close as possible and I want all of you. Most importantly though I need to know you're safe. Could we... figure it out? How to make it okay again?"  
  "When you stop attempting to leave me, yes. When you swear you will be honest with me from now on, yes. But this..? This was too much for me tonight. I don't know what to do, Ava."  
  "But we... we can try, and..." Ava cupped his face, he feels how she wanted to pull him in.  
  "We will. I did not say we shouldn't, only that I have no clue how. I have asked you a single question needing affirmations, to hear how you feel about me now," his hands drop to her shoulders, down her arms and in the end completely withdrew, "I still have received no answers, only more questions, and would you have told me all this if I never asked?" 

__Every part of his body was trembling and cold, he wonders why he kept asking more and more questions when he was unable to deal with her answers shouldn't they be what Stefano needs. For once Ava doesn't follow after him, grants this distance between them as if it wasn't undeniably painful.  
  "I would have. You deserved to know, and after all I decided for myself to tell it to you right now. Do you still want to know how I feel about you, what I feel for you?"  
  "I do."  
  "I love you," Ava assures, "After so little time spent with you, I love you. For everything you said to me, all you've done, how you made me feel and for all that I know about you so far. The good and the bad."  
  "You have told me so many things, Ava," his hands slide above the fabric of his sweatpants, he felt like he had to get rid of the sweat and quivering, "You draw me in, you capture me, you... have me. Despite it all. How can I even explain why? Why do I still want you? Why does this have to be a question?" 

__Why doesn't he despise her?  
  Why doesn't he want her gone?  
  Or hurt her again?  
Before he found a questionable state of calm and a strange kind of tranquility in this moment, all Stefano wanted was to see Ava crying and he wanted to hear her voice begging him to forgive her, to make her regret the damage she caused. How much she hurt him.  
  She cried, yes. She asked him to stop, of course. And it was impossible for Stefano to receive any sort of pleasure from it, any form of joy, all he felt was powerful, and dangerously so.  
  None of it had felt right.  
  "I don't think we can get anywhere like this tonight, Stefano," she shivers speaking his name, "Maybe it's better we went to sleep. Tomorrow is another day."  
  "...how can I possibly sleep now?" Does she want to leave while he wasn't around to stop her..? He hates the way his thoughts went. Hates to doubt her and jump to conclusions. A deep breath was needed, a sign of defeat. She's right.  
  "You'll take your pills and go to bed and I'll stay in the living room. Is that okay?"  
  "You should use my bed---"  
  "No. No, I don't want to. Really," she reaffirms, insists as she walks past him but Stefano holds her arm, "It doesn't matter where I sleep." 

__Stefano simply nods, too emotionally drained to argue about something as minor as this; and the touch on her arm wasn't rough but tender, only meant to stop Ava before he too would go and try getting sleep. One hand on her body became two on each side, slowly they trailed up her arms stopping once thumbs reached Ava's cheeks warm from crying and dried tears.  
  Ava isn't looking away from him, isn't getting away from him. But she does not touch him, either, keeps her hands to herself.  
  Not that it matters to Stefano. 

__He draws in closer to her, needs to bend down slightly because Ava held still. His lips hovered above hers, their eyes half-lidded and breath caught in chests. Before Stefano adds his lips to Ava's, he watched her pupils dilate, thought he could count her eyelashes if he so pleased, would surely lose himself in the depths of her eyes if he tried.  
  Lips meet for a little while. A few seconds. But not long enough to make him feel better, though he feels different from before; lighter. Less troubled, no longer angry. Free of doubt as long as his lips brushed over Ava's.  
  And Stefano pulls away slowly, and Ava follows his motion and she kisses him again with more feeling and softer as ever.  
  He wishes for this kiss to last. 


	30. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stefano realizes some of the mistakes he made, but how does he attempt to solve them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a week since the last update I guess, and I'm sorry about that! Let's celebrate three months and 30 chapters with more angst, yes?

Stefano locked the apartment's door after taking his pill, hoping Ava hasn't heard him doing so. The keys were hidden underneath his pillow once Stefano went to bed, most likely to spend more time overthinking instead of actually sleeping; the pills, though, they should help him and if he was to sleep through half the day tomorrow, so be it. Being awake was much more hurtful and came hard to him, this vortex of thoughts devouring him whole while at the same time Stefano felt numb both physically and mentally.  
  The pillow is grabbed tight to the point of fingers aching, knuckles turned white from the force used to hold onto the fabric like on dear sanity and reality. As if grasping to it would help the man stay on the ground where it appeared to be relatively safe. Safer than allowing himself to get tossed into the depths of his own mind where the shadows lurked, preying eyes in the darkness.  
  It must all be his fault.  
  Karma.  
  For whatever wrong Stefano has done the universe comes back to haunt him. 

  This was not the first time someone hurt him, not the first time he had been lied to, but it hadn't felt as intense and he did not react as violent. Handling women turning him down, rejecting him, was never easy to do for Stefano, and in fact there was not a single time he handled it any good; violence often his last resort.  
  Things have not been different with Ava, no matter how much time passed since his last relationship and with this the last rejection. He should have learned something. Should know better. And stay away from women, but reaching out to them is part of his work.   
  Men are rare to find in this business, most of them photographers or artists themselves and hence not cut out to work with him: it doesn't quite fit. 

  As he laid there waiting to fall asleep without attempting to try in the first place, Stefano continues to wonder.   
  Why does he want Ava to be different?  
  Why would she be?  
  Limbs less cold and the core of his body no longer shaking, in which he found comfort, indicated that he drifts off slowly. Stefano is not fighting against it, welcomes some rest with open arms, but while wounds are still fresh and his mind still worked, was it right to take a break here..? As long as he was careful, nothing bad will come to him.  
  Once the man remembers the sound of Ava's voice when she held back her tears, when she told him what he is doing hurts her, the moment she called him a liar cut deep again, then Stefano wishes he would never remember anything at all again. Forcing memories in a different direction did not work: they drift back to her tears if Stefano imagines how her lips felt on his, and they turned bitter and rotten if he thought about Ava's taste.   
  All that he knows is that he was still breathing.  
  All he can do is to keep breathing.

Footsteps approached soon after Stefano turned around to face the bedroom door. His stomach sank. His heartbeat quickened. It was naive of him to think Ava was able to fall asleep after what happened.  
  She opens the door and Stefano heard it creaking, closed his eye and pretended to be asleep, could not possibly bear talking to Ava with a vortex and crushing waves in his head, sure to say something that might worsen their situation. No matter that, Stefano wished to have Ava close again...  
  "Stefano? Are you asleep..?" Ava's voice was small, so quiet, he barely heard her and did not respond.  
  "I guess you are..."

She sits down on his side of the bed, the mattress sinking a bit under her weight, then she exhaled softly, touched his hand just as soft. He had the urge to take her hand, to squeeze it, never to let go.  
  "You deserve some rest, I think. And I'm glad you're sleeping. You can't talk back now," Ava began running fingertips over his skin, painting invisible lines that left him aching, "I love you, like certain dark things are loved. Without knowing how. Or from where. You..."   
  She pauses. Stefano hopes she will talk more, thinks of her staying by his side. And yet... it was better if she doesn't stay tonight.  
  "...you... ah... fuck. I can't sleep without you anymore." The weight lifts and the door creaks and her footsteps sounded slower than before.

The next morning Stefano woke from dreamless slumber and tense shoulders, he pondered if what happened last night was all but his imagination. If memories were false and things not as bad as they seemed to be.  
  But no. The door keys are still hidden underneath his pillow, the other side of the bed is still empty and Stefano remains terrified to leave his bedroom.   
  Ava's words from a couple hours ago, though, they had been just as real as everything else. A flicker of light in the dark, barely a lit candle in an empty room without windows. How different this morning may be if Stefano replied, talked to her like she did to him, with a voice thick from denied sleep and twirling words going nowhere but perhaps could make sense once released--- his skin is cold and eye heavy, his body barely functioning to get him up from the bed. 

Once he does, though, once Stefano forces himself to toss back the sheets and feet stood on the ground, he saw no more reason to delay talking to Ava. Aside that, Stefano was hungry, thirsty, felt miserable and would give anything for an hour long shower. First he's picking out new clothes from the wardrobe, Ava's words echoing in his ears about how good red would suit him--- he chooses a deep carmine pullover, but decided to keep the pants he wears now. Fresh underwear. No socks, because he doesn't plan on going out.  
  Stefano hesitates before leaving his bedroom, takes a deep breath before stepping outside and listens closely if he maybe could hear Ava doing something, anything, and if it was just her turning around on the couch.   
  Nothing.  
  No crying, either. A good sign.  
As silent as possible to him he sneaks into the bathroom to undress, and before Stefano continues to take a very much needed shower, he stares into the mirror and the scars on his face and over his shoulders, those that Ava never said anything about, those she ignored. How thin he was, that you could count his ribs easily without feeling for them on his chest. So many times she's seen him naked, so many times she said not a word about how he looks without clothes on; how sickly and drained. And still she... caresses him, touches him everywhere, places her lips where it made Stefano shiver and moan.   
  Appreciates him.  
  And used to praise him.

The minutes passed as water ran down his body, too hot actually, leaving skin red and irritated. At least now he can be sure he was awake. Clean, too. Definitely no longer freezing.   
  Dressed and feeling like a human again, Stefano steps out of the bathroom letting out the fog from inside, walks through the hallway towards the living room, a little anxious but overall anticipated to see Ava, no matter what she feels, no matter how she looks. Or looks at him.

  "Hey," she said with a scratchy voice, "Good morning. I made you some coffee, too." Ava sat bundled up as so often, on the same spot she made herself comfortable the day they first met. Unlike back then, her hair was a mess and eyes puffy, probably from crying and not sleeping. Stefano's heart stings, thinking that he hadn't cried at all, wondering why no tears came in the first place.  
  "Thank you." The cup stood before him on the low table, coffee still steaming hot; hers was empty already, and the cup looked dirty, marks of dried coffee on its inside.   
  This hasn't been her first coffee, he figures.  
  "Did you sleep well?" A silly question, Stefano scolds himself in his head, but the words slipped.   
  "I really... didn't. Not much. How about you..?" This conversation felt awkward, like small talk and useless phrases between distant friends.  
  "The pills helped indeed," Stefano says, "But this is not important right now." He seeks the cup's warmth, holds it tight in both his hands. Ava escapes his gaze, stares into nothing and does not reply. 

Telling her that he was awake last night when Ava thought he slept crossed his thoughts. One part curious about her reaction but the other uncertain how she reacts, the idea gets dropped quickly; he will keep it a secret. Will keep her words dear.   
  Moments like those are scarce and meant to be cherished in silence.  
  "You have to eat something. Stefano." She caught him by surprise, truth be told he only heard her say his name.  
  "Excuse me? I was in thoughts---"  
  "Eat something," Ava sounds angry, "We can talk later."  
  "Why are you angry?" He didn't drink a single sip of coffee yet, felt it getting cooler. "I---"  
  "I'm not! I'm tired and... I'm sorry."  
  "...no. Stop apologising to me."  
Ava opened her mouth to say something --- perhaps attempted to apologise again --- but closed it without a single word, a weak nod and just as weak inhale. A silent okay, a silent defeat.   
  "How about you take a shower now, while I take care of preparing something to eat? It can make you feel better, and if you want, you can sleep later."   
  After a very much needed conversation that was no less uncomfortable, but hopefully less awkward. If they can sort things out. He remained naive, hopeful that things will fall into place and that she needn't camp on the couch anymore.  
  "Okay."

The hurt from last night after her confession was not gone, it had shifted to a different but no less crushing feeling he was unable to name yet. Anxiety, yes, fear, of course, none of those could describe what he felt though, not one of them Stefano knew could make them tangible.   
  While Ava took her shower, as promised Stefano took care of breakfast, needed to keep his hands busy in order to distract himself from spiralling again.   
  He heard her turning off the water and how the door from the cabinet slides open, then the closing of his washing machine soon followed by its faint rumbling.  
  A few more minutes and Ava stood behind him in the kitchen with wet hair and fresh clothes. He wanted to smile, to sink into a sweet feeling of morning routine, as far away as it was from their reality.  
  "Are you feeling better?" He asks, picks up silverware and plates. Stefano doesn't smile widely, but adamantly it tugged at the corners of his mouth.  
  "Yes, I do. I... took care of the laundry, too, because it... ---I need fresh clothes." He doesn't buy that, knows that he forgot about the blood stained clothes in the machine and by now they must've started to reek horribly. Stefano wants to apologise for that. Again.  
  "I know," he simply replies, "Thank you."

Although Stefano was hungry and couldn't even remember the last time he has eaten enough for it to be considered healthy, he didn't eat much now either. The loss of appetite must come from his medication, and it made sense to him and it was easier to blame it on the pills instead of his health in particular. He lost weight before therapy. Nowadays doesn't bother to keep an eye on it anymore, all it did to him was making him feel bad about himself and his appearance.   
  Ava is not too happy with this.  
  Puts a few more strawberries on his plate and probably would have covered them wholly with whipped cream if he had some.  
  "There is always space for strawberries," she tells him, "None of us ate a lot recently, and we better change that."  
  "You're right. I am relatively bad at taking care of myself it seems."  
  "That makes two of us." Ava takes a bite from one of the leftover fruits and, reluctant at first, Stefano does the same.

By the time both of them finished eating and took care of the dishes, Stefano no longer dwelled in this false feeling of a morning routine that he so badly wished for. Instead there hung dread over him like a dark cloud, the occasional drops of toxic rain falling down on him. For example when he sees Ava on her usual spot on the couch, far away from him, out of reach.  
  "How are you feeling, Stefano?" She asks him, looks at him without a smile on her lips which hurt more than the question itself that was nearly impossible to answer.  
  "I don't know. Ava, I don't know."  
  She lowers her gaze, picks at the skin around her nails. "Do you want to talk?"  
  "We need to talk. Yes," he talks with a low voice, afraid to speak up, "I'm unsure where to pick up, though."  
  "That's okay. I can start."  
Stefano swallows. Listens to Ava but could not watch her during it all.

  "I didn't want to hurt you once I realized how much you meant to me, but by that time it was already too late. There was no way out for me from this relationship before you came along, I know that sounds utterly wrong and stupid  and like I look for excuses, but for once, no, I don't. We weren't in a relationship, I thought, that I had no reason to tell you anything about it, but things played out differently."  
  "They did, though at no given moment spent with you I saw you as anything else but mine, and I wanted to be damned if I could not make you mine. You being dedicated to somebody else never crossed my mind. From all the things you said to me, your promises were most important and precious in my head, but to learn they were lies? To hear you speak about a relationship with another man? You shattered me." Stefano never made a mistake with her, never did anything to hurt her like this, and Ava cannot escape to the day she left him for yelling at her to bring it up as an argument. He doubts she would.

  "No. Those weren't lies, Stefano. I wanted to get away from him, but couldn't find a way. Not on my own, not without someone being there to show me that I'm worth something."  
  "I'm not sure if I understand..."  
  "Yeah, I don't understand, either. The last thing I want is to hurt you again. And I told you all you needed to know, do I have to say it again? Do you want to hear it? Would you believe me?"  
  "I want to hear why you didn't leave him sooner. Because I cannot understand." Stefano remembers what she told him the previous night, although it felt like a blur of words to him, too much said in too little time. More than he could process.

  "I tried..." She picks at her skin again, frantically and harder.  
  "You were with me, you were mine already. If you had told me there was someone who pressured and hurt you, I would have..."  
  "Killed him?"  
Not what he wanted to say. It crossed his mind, admittedly. Whoever this man was, god forbid he ever met Stefano.  
  "Is that what you think of me?"  
  "I'm not judging you. I don't think badly of you."  
  "Does it matter what I say? You know the lines I would cross for you, Ava."  
  "And you know how scared I am of losing you because of it."  
  "...now I do."

Stefano lets out a sigh, couldn't comprehend everything she said, not even some of his own words. If there was a way to sort out his thoughts, someone please show him how.  
  "You must have seen the blood on my clothes in the washing machine earlier. Without a commentary you came into the kitchen and wanted to tell me about what you had seen, but decided not to. You did not yell at me the moment I confessed, you did not try to escape from me. We've had sex instead. We both are a little deranged in that regard, me more so than you."  
  "I'm weak for you. Scared of talking about it, or of your reaction. But this isn't... our topic, right?"  
  "I want to make it a topic. Let me finish," Stefano says sharply, "If you are not scared of what I have done, if you did not leave me nor went to the police to sell me out, then maybe I understand why you were unable to leave this other man. The thought is terrifying, Ava. Can you leave me, but refuse to because you want to stay? Or do you think you cannot leave?"  
  "This isn't the same, Stefano, not in the slightest. You haven't done the things he did."  
  "Could you please answer my question?" He insists. He grows impatient, more and more scared of an answer he may not be able to digest.  
  "I don't want to leave you, Stefano." Ava speaks with certainty and a firm tone, can look directly at Stefano again while doing so and manages to make him weak for her just like this.  
  "Why?" Stefano needs proof. Needs to hear her assure him that she stays because she wants to, because she loves him, and not only because he refuses to let Ava go so easily, cannot accept to feel like he manipulated her into staying with him after how he made her feel; because it was a thought that occurred to him now, toxic and crushing the imagination of Ava being around him for the mere reason of her being scared to leave this flat and how he would react.  
  But didn't he lock the door last night?  
  Didn't he refuse to let her go?

  "Because I fell for you. Quickly and absolutely, do you think I didn't ask myself why? What it is about you that drives me crazy just seeing you or having you in any way close? I want you. All of you. The things I know and those I don't." This was the moment in movies where they kissed and music started to play, when the audience thinks everything is falling into place and the situation is solved. When narrow-minded people can be tricked into thinking the world was bright and pink and beautiful without anything tragic, without the problematic things, the grotesque and macabre. Flowers never wither and the sun never goes down.  
  It's not their world, though.   
  He doesn't stand up to go to her and kiss her. There is no music playing in the background. No one thinks this situation is in any way solved because of Ava's confession of love and dedication to Stefano. He cannot shake the feeling that she would leave him.   
    
The realization dawned that he keeps her caged.  
  Though... if that's what she loved?

  "Promise me something. Ava. Will you? Can you?"  
  "I... yes." Without knowing what it is that he wants?  
  "Never lie to me again. Tell me if one day you want to leave me, but first speak to me about what I have to change so you will stay."  
  "I promise." And no sign of hesitation he could see, and no change in her expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A BIG SHOUTOUT to my girlfriend for always spotting my typos. One time I wrote "Stefani" and i bet it's still hidden somewhere in the previous chapters...


End file.
